


Love's Cycle - Discovery

by kafreses



Series: Love's Cycles [1]
Category: Glee, klaine - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 128,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17965619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafreses/pseuds/kafreses
Summary: Two boys meet on the stairs and a cascade of emotions ensue. Blaine remembers their love, the tenderness and the fights. Life with Kurt has not always been easy, but neither is true love. Now, at the end of it all, Blaine begins to realize the depth of what they have shared and perhaps a little bit more.





	1. Wonders of Life

**Author's Note:**

> To me the television show left holes in the Klaine plot because there were so many other plots to be filled. What I attempted to do was to fill a few of those holes (as I see them) and then move on past the last episode. 
> 
> My intend here was to take my previous works Love Cycles Part One and Two and combine them properly. Originally, Part 2 literally split Part 1 in half. In the process of putting the parts together, I rearranged the order of some chapters, split some existing chapters expanding the two halves and finally, several new chapters add context.Through this process Love's Cycles had had been divided into three volumes.

 

I see a form,  
I recognize a smile,  
I feel his touch.

He is a cloud now,  
distant but close,  
an image and a memory.

I lie back and bask in his beauty,  
this lover of mine long departed,  
his very soul caught upon high.

I sense him near me,  
the cloud passing overhead,  
his presence blocking out the sun.

The chill of shade is his touch,  
cold to the skin,  
somewhat comforting to the heart.

For a brief second, we are one again,  
together in our joy,  
one with out passions.

I miss him,  
I long for him,  
I wish I could reach up to that cloud.

To hug him once more,  
to kiss,  
feel his heart next to mine.

I see him in the cloud,  
my heart weeps,  
a tear rolls down my cheek.


	2. Beginnings

“I honestly thought I would never find real love,” Blaine choked back tears.

A shaky sigh escapes his lips as his eyes clamped shut resulted from a sharp pain in his chest. Holding Kurt’s hand in his, his thumb gently rotating across the skin as if remembering. Seconds earlier, he checked, no pulse. Warm skin soothed him and suddenly he smiled. An odd sensation swelled within his heart pushing the shock away, allowing remembrances of all they had, all they shared and all his hopes.

He sat for a long moment with his lips pressed to Kurt’s hand. Wrinkled with age, he felt only smoothness. Kurt aged well, but Blaine, on the other hand, felt his age as he leaned into the hand gently kissing soft fingers.

Slowly opening his eyes, Blaine looked up to see Kurt at peace as if he slept. His head slumped to one side against the pillow pushed up against the high arm of plush couch. He wore a heavy blue and red sweater Blaine gave it to him for Christmas three decades ago. Kurt loved it. Not only did It kept him warm when his arthritis flared it represented years of love.

Blaine leaned into the ruffled fabric breathing deeply. It smelled so like Kurt with a hint of cologne. Age had not changed him much, at least his mannerisms. The two aged gracefully together, but Kurt kept a youthfulness which made Blaine jealous at times.

Reaching out, Blaine stroked Kurt’s hair. No longer full and thick, however, it all belonged to him while Blaine lost most of his years ago. Twisting it between his fingers, a tear rolled down Blaine’s cheek. He loved that hair and the man it belonged to with all his heart. Their life together had been full but not without complications, starting with the turbulence of youth, absurd longing, raging hormones and blatant uncertainty. Time tempered all making the highs not so high and the lows, not so devastating. Two breakups and an almost divorce followed by years of bliss marked the path over the decades.

Weary eyes glanced about their New York apartment some distant part of him wished he still owned. Unfortunately, a fairly new, modern one hundred and fifty story high rise took up the entire block they had lived on. Now, for nearly twenty years, they dwelled together in a lovely two bedroom flat in a home for retired Broadway stars a few blocks from the venerable Lincoln Center. Kurt loved it because of all the memories it conjured up. Blaine lovingly endured, missing their old apartment, but family and failing health demanded compromise. Arthritis made it hard for Kurt to walk long distances, but then, he would not be walking any more. They would carry him to his final resting place.

Five Tony Awards, two Oscars, seven Golden Globes and three Emmy Awards sat in a place of honor on a shelf beside the gas fireplace. The baby grand piano in the corner looked oversized in the room. Blaine still played, though painfully slow. He composed his last song nine years ago garnering him his third Tony. It marked his last public appearance, though he still spoke over the new Internet.

A tiny object caught Blaine’s attention where a simple ring rested between two awards. Made of bubble gum wrappers in the shape of a red and white bow he had to smile. In a calculated move, he had given it to Kurt just before their first Christmas. Symbolizing a great hope, he remembered it with great fondness for it held promises which kept them even in their darkest hour. Kurt retrieved it from McKinley before he left for New York. The school did not mind him having a time capsule over the summer, but they wanted the space for the coming September. In fact, they had every intention of throwing it all-out until one of the New Directions informed Kurt.

Seventy-six years of marriage sat all around. Pictures of them in their youth, mementos from their days in the Glee Club, lifelong friends from school and other important people in their lives dotted the walls. The space on top of the baby grand piano held the pictures of their family arranged by marriage with their grand and great grandchildren out-front. Their granddaughter, Mary lived in New York and only yesterday Mary came to visit with her husband and kids. The twins, carried by Rachel five years after Blaine and Kurt’s surprise wedding, Katherine and Alexander, once lived on opposite sides of the pond. Katherine married a British stage actor and lived in London and had four children. Alexander retired to Florida with his husband and they had two children with a lesbian friend of theirs. Over the years, the twins grew apart, but reunited ten years ago at Rachel’s funeral, they now grew closer.

Mary visited three times a week and they became the highlight of the elderly couple’s long days. Blaine and Kurt enjoyed the time she spent with their grandchildren and their family. Regrettably, Kurt would be cold by the time her key slipped into the door. Life may have departed the man he loved, but Blaine wanted this. Kurt had always been the love of his life and spending a few moments alone healed a bleeding heart.

The rest of the family had scattered across the United States and Canada. Thirteen great grandchildren and a soon to be great-great-grandchild rounded out the Hummel/Anderson clan. Next to Kurt, family meant everything to Blaine and at this moment his heart should be breaking, but it held amazingly fast. He found solace in the odd silence. The entertainment system timed out a while ago during one of Kurt and Blaine’s frequent naps. A tug from Kurt woke him and their eyes met. Bright blue eyes stared into hazel with shimmered, hot love. Then, like a light bulb, the luster faded for the last time and his head slumped slowly to the left.

Rolling his head toward his love, Blaine let out a long breath. A finger traced a soft line down Kurt’s still face finding moisture beneath the eye. Hesitation gripped him and then he pressed the damp digit into the wetness. Pulling the finger to his lips, Blaine kissed it tasting the salt of Kurt’s love.

A heavy tear trickled from Blaine’s eye. Even at the end, Kurt could find the time to shed a tear for their love. The man cried at the drop of a hat. Flowers brought a sudden onslaught and a sad movie created tidal waves. At times it irritated Blaine but then he loved the man and a seemingly endless list of quirks. When they first met, Kurt kept his emotions in check as it took a while for him to break out of his shell. The darling man’s first two years in New York taught him so much about himself and the man he loved. On, the other hand, Kurt quickly got over his issues about showing affection or love. The day the dam finally broke, pleasantly surprised barely described what Blaine thought.

Staring at his fingers, Blaine sat further back into the thick pillow behind him. The blanket. Kurt made for him forty years ago, hung over his legs kept him warm. On many a cold night, they would cuddle up under it on the couch under its gently fondling one another watching a sappy movie. Like the sweater, it smelt of years of love.

Longing touched his heart and an old man drew in a shaky breath. Blaine had always thought he would be first because, for the most part, Kurt’s health held. There early seventies proved hard because Blaine lived in an out of hospitals as he underwent cancer treatments. Over the years Kurt’s joints ceased up ending his dancing career. The twins visited often during the worst of it bringing their families and helping. Having Kurt and his family around pulled a weary Blaine through the hardest strokes. Kurt had always been his rock, but seeing his grandchildren brought new hope.

Life improved as the decades of their lives moved to its apex. Blaine’s health returned to him, the brutal regimen of treatments having beaten death. The love of their youth made a comeback as Kurt fawned over the man, he had almost lost. The entire experience frightened both of them to the core reinvigorating their love. Only two days ago, they enjoyed the best old person’s sex.

A smile pulled the wrinkles of Blaine’s face and he recalled the wonder of making it to ninety. The years continued to roll on and, yes, they talked every so often about what they knew would come. Long ago, Kurt had said he would die speaking about his first love. Well, it almost came to pass because they watched the rerun of latest Tony awards and reminisced. Of course, Kurt commented about what people wore and how much fashion had changed over the years. Gradually they both drifted off to sleep with their hand interlocked all those years ago in high school. What a wonderful thing.

Through the window, he could see the rooftops of the part of the city which gave them fame and fortune. A few blocks away the center of the venerable theatre district kept its former glory after being declared a heritage site. They watched Rachel and Sam perform together under the tutelage of Rachel’s husband. Sam never married and worked as a music teacher for three decades, winning a dozen national championships. He however had several children by several women. That year Two husbands headlined the second inauguration of Hillary Clinton and twelve years later the nation’s first gay president. They went to London to sing back up when Rachel preformed for the King William and Queen Katherine.

He loved this part of New York. They both did. It never seemed to change, unlike the massive city of twenty million around them. New York modernized like every city in the world as it adapted to an altered climate. A thriving colony on the moon, people living on Mars and the mining of the asteroid belt testified to how much life changed. Heavy industry slowly moved off world where the lack a gravity and environmental laws made it more profitable. The world had changed all around them, but their little part of the world seemed untouched. People still flocked to live theater, even though experts thought holographic entertainment would kill it. Blaine and Kurt had a big part in its revival gaining them a place in the hall of fame and the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

Now, as he stared at the love of his life, Blaine remembered a single event that shaped his life forever. While Dalton no longer existed, there, one fateful day, he saw a young, somewhat nerdy teenager looking a bit awed on the curving stairs. The poor fellow looked so out of place in his dark blazer and knee length shorts. Even though emotion tugged him toward the Gap and a handsome, but the older assistant manager, without hesitation he took a soft hand in his. Back then, he did not understand what he now took for granted. Fate and destiny struck.

The Warblers and Blaine sang in a way he had not expected making it a happy blur. How he missed those days. He recalled the words belting from his throat and how, somehow, they meant so much more. As always Blaine innocently flirty with his fellow Warblers who accepted his style and the fact it helped bring out his real talent. All the while his eyes continually fell on the new kid while soul told him something his body did not know.


	3. The Right Hand

A half-cut apple sat on a plate beside Kurt on a low table. A knife rested on a plate next to a glass of milk. Ten minutes ago, the two of them had been talking about their grandchildren while watching old shows. Now, Blaine stared at the browning flesh with blurry eyes. Private reflections distilled into curious thoughts—they could still afford apples. Those living on the seedy side of New York barely knew what an apple tasted like. Changes in climate and a new reality faced the human race and the government rationed things as they during the World Wars. Food supply chains stretched with the new reality and after twenty-five years, inflationary normalcy returned. 

A long time ago things seemed so much simpler. The healthy abundance of the world shone brightly on store shelves and the dinner tables of America. Meat, while expensive for the times, could be easily had. Fresh fruits and vegetables bounced around in the back of trucks all over the country. A time of plenty, at ten Blaine could not imagine what the middle of the century would bring. The concerns of a boy radiated about the differences he sensed in himself. Friends noticed the mounds sprouting beneath sweaters and voices changed. Talks shifted from playing hide-and-seek to what Susy found interesting. At that age, no kid understood the things the body did. In his innocence, Blaine never noticed the inconsistencies within himself. Looking at the boys seemed normal. When he graduated into his freshman year, he discovered something to the contrary. It started with his shoulder being thrust into a locker as the hall bully stomped by. He did not understand why some called him a British cigarette—fag. 

The ensuing struggle took months to work through. Afraid to speak to anyone, Blaine sunk into himself. No one seemed to notice his suffering as adverse conditions mounted. 

Half way through his thirteenth year, his father gave him a hand-me-down laptop. Free of the firewall restrictions on school computers, Blaine discovered the phenomena called Google. It did not take him long to get confused. Why were the bullies calling him a cigarette? The meaning of homosexual shocked him, and the trouble came when he tried to apply the two meanings. The outcome stung and made him doubt his self-worth. Wikipedia explained things with surprising detail and inevitably searching led the boy to venues he had not expected. Windows popped up with the strangest things. Men and women did that? Men did that to themselves? The whole thing terrified him, but as the months dragged from thirteen to fourteen, he found himself leaking in curious ways. Over time, those sites gave him insight showing boys would be boys as one thing led to another. 

Self-service became a frequent activity and relieved certain pressures he felt. Afraid of a single word, Blaine tried to watch the things men and women did. It usually left him limp and frustrated. Man-on-man, well, excited barely described it and his hard member became his new best friend. Morning, noon and night he found himself playing pocket pool. Through self-experimentation, he discovered the person he would come to be but pride in himself did not translate into acceptance. Terror stalked the halls of his school. 

His parents must have discovered something because one night, at dinner, Blaine found himself uncomfortably picked at his potatoes. As usual, Daniel kept his nose hidden behind a marketing journal. It would have been a typical dinner, if not for his mom’s constant stare. While her son helped with the dishes and after his dad retreated to his recliner, mom broached a sensitive subject. Blaine wildly blushed as she spoke in low tones about the increase in laundry due to his frequent moments of ecstasy. 

Fearful, Blaine listened and to his surprise his mother did not appear to be upset. Sipping on her second glass of wine, she explained to her shy son certain facts a boy of his age should know. Not surprisingly, he knew more. 

A couple of weeks later, after Daniel returned from an extended business trip, his father asked a surprising question of his son. “Blaine, tell me, how was school today?”

Blaine blinked. In his youth he did not understand where the question would end up. As he held onto his lover’s hand, old Blaine had to laugh—clumsy, best described his father when it came to family matters. He remembered shrinking back into the chair. What did his father what? Had he found something on his computer? 

“Chew, dear and then answer your father,” Pam acknowledged her son’s dismay.

Swallowing, Blaine sipped some water and then glanced at his father. His face remained hidden within a journal. Stumbling with what to say, the teenager said, “We had a fire drill today.”

“Interesting, dear,” Pam said as she picked up the plates. “Ice cream or pie?”

“Can I have both?” Blaine enthusiastically replied.

“Don’t spoil the boy,” Daniel injected without looking up from his paper. 

Pam smiled and retreated into the kitchen. 

“Fire drills are important, Blaine. They teach you responsibility. We must all be responsible,” Daniel said in a monotone voice.

“Yes, dad.”

“What are they teaching you these days?”

Why did he care? He never took an interest before. Nevertheless, Blaine studiously responded, “We are learning about frogs in biology. Mr. Cummings says we will be cutting one open next week. It’s kind of gross.”

“Getting your hands dirty will make you a man.” A page turned. “You still in choir?”

Blaine smiled. “Yup.”

“Boys, should play football.”

“I like math, dad.”

“Are you still a spare on the baseball team?”

Blaine frowned. “The coach thinks I am too small.”

“You need to eat more.” Another page turned. “That friend of yours, Phillip, isn’t he on the football team?”

“Yes.” The boy shrugged, and old Blaine smiled. He followed football all his life, but his beloved Kurt did not like it other than the huddles and tight rears.

“Maybe he can get you working with some weights. Music is for wimps.”

“Daniel,” Pam complained from the other room.

Blaine blinked and challenged his father. “Music if fun.”

“Blaine, you need to toughen up.” The journal fell against the tabletop. “I know what is happening at school.”

The boy’s face reddened, and he began to tremble.

“Is it true you’re being bullied?” Daniel stared at his son.

Swallowing, Blaine stared at his father. 

Shaking his head, Daniel added, “Your principal phoned me. She said you complained to her.”

“Yes,” Blaine barely got the word out. What had Mrs. Belton told her father? 

The journal went back up and the conversation faded. His mom brought him a plate of homemade apple pie with a huge helping of vanilla ice cream. Taking his time devouring the delicious treat, Blaine wondered what his dad was up to. He found out two weeks later when Daniel suddenly announced his son would be transferred to a private school called Dalton which had a good football team. He would later be disappointed to learn it had a championship glee club.

Three weeks after arriving at Dalton, Blaine discovered the real reason his father sent him there. A down turn at work meant he would be traveling more. It also forced his mother back to work full-time. The fact, Dalton had longer hours and a stricter curriculum complemented Daniel’s plans for his son. 

Blaine adjusted and within days, he began to enjoy Dalton. He liked the uniforms and bullies did not patrol the halls looking for someone to stuff into lockers. Mrs. Dunby, who baby-sat him since his fourth birthday, watched over him after school. Her husband had died two years after the Anderson’s moved into the neighborhood. A former music teacher, the piano against the wall came to life for a couple of hours every day. Over the years, and with loving care, she taught the young boy a new art. A Dalton he learned to explore that love.

Blaine always knocked before they walked through the back door. After all politeness garnered politeness. The smell of fresh baked bread assaulted the senses as Mrs. Dunby puttered about the kitchen. The crusty end of a loaf sat on a plate smothered in butter making a young teenager smile. He need not ask because she willingly offered so many. In her own way she molded the youth in ways his parents did not. 

Chowing down it did not take long for Blaine to figure out his elderly friend looked out of sorts. Sometimes she needed help to the couch, so Blaine politely asked, “Can I help, Mrs. Dunby?” 

“It’s alright dear, I’m just tired. Your mom will be home soon, why don’t you run on home,” the elderly woman suggested.

“You sure?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’ll be around tomorrow to cut the lawn.”

“Thank you, dear.” 

Blaine reached for his pack. Sadly, Mrs. Dunby passed away three weeks later. 

Standing in a silent back porch, Blaine took his shoes off and placed them in the usual place. What to do? Television? No. Music? Yes. Dalton provided Blaine with a new appreciation for different musical styles. After auditioning for the Warblers, he quickly learned to enjoy Broadway show tunes. His new friends introduced him to a whole new world of musical websites. When alone, he often belted out Barbara and Liza. 

So up the stairs, he trundled. His room lay at the end of the hall next to the bathroom. Flying onto the bed, he yanked the laptop from under the nightstand. Flipping the top, he confirmed the plug stuck into the wall and hit the switch and waited for Windows XP to chug to life.

A few moments later, music blasted through the attached speakers. The Metropolitan broadcast Le Les Misérables and Blaine joined in as the rhythm took over. His voice echoed through the empty house as if he stood on a stage. In the middle of I Dream the Dream, he felt something stir. Thinking nothing of it, his fingers pressed under his pants. Grasping his shaft, a wave a pleasure washed through him. A short time later a naughty film covered the music site where young, agile, Eastern European boys played with themselves. A hard cock thrust deep into a hairless ass forcing something to get harder. Pushing his pants down, Blaine gripped the fullness of his manhood in both hands. Stroking, tickling and pulling, he jumped with the suddenness of a deep voice from the door. His father stood there with a puzzled look on his face as he stared at two young men having intercourse on a computer screen.

Instant deflation resulted. Hauling up his underpants’ Blaine’s chest felt like it would explode. The boy’s face flushed red as the grunting of two boys reaching climax mixed into a Broadway show tune. 

His father stood there for the longest time and Blaine sank deeper into the bed. With a huff, Daniel strode over to the bed, scooped the laptop up ripping the cord from the wall.

Horrified, Blaine stared.

Storming toward the door, Daniel suddenly stopped. Without looking back, he angrily called to his son, “Pull your pants on and come downstairs.”

The deep, menacing silence left Blaine dumbstruck. Embarrassed, mortified, he lay there for the longest time with his heart pounded in his chest. His mind flashed with the most horrible things and the stories of hateful parents filling the internet. 

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, Blaine swallowed—his dad would be in the kitchen. Padding down the hall, his footsteps failed when raised voiced carried down the corridor. His parents fought, again. 

“Blaine, get in here!” Daniel called down the hall. He could see his son from the breakfast table.

Blaine obeyed and advanced to the door where he waited with sweat ran down his back. Sitting at the breakfast table, his father pointed a finger at mother with rage in his face. Tears streaked his mother’s cheeks as she stood there with her lips pulled tightly together.

Turning in his chair, Daniel glared at his son. Pursing his lips, he commanded, “Have a seat, young man.”

Blaine hesitated. 

“Well?” His father’s tone went beyond the usual, deep throated garble. 

Sheepishly, Blaine sat in his spot across the table as his mother and father stared at him. Pam’s face overflowed with compassion as a tear rolled down her cheek. Slowly, she turned and retreated into the kitchen.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Blaine’s father demanded as he tried to control himself.

“What did I do?” Blaine countered in all innocence.

Turning the laptop around, his father pointed at the frozen scene. “What exactly is this?”

Flushed, Blaine’s heart crashed into his throat, forcing him further back in his chair.

Daniel‘s anger grew. “What the hell are you doing, boy?”

“Don’t speak to him like that,” Pam emotionally called from the kitchen.

“Shut up!” Daniel yelled back, glaring at his son.

Something heavy hit the kitchen countertop.

“Do you know what this is? Who showed you this? A teacher?”

The answer did not come. How could it? No one showed him anything.

Slamming the laptop shut, Daniel leaned across the table. Glaring at his son, he roared, “You’re grounded until you tell me who showed you . . . this . . . shit and what you’re doing with it. No, TV. No, music. No computer or phone. The lawn needs cutting, leaves racking, windows washed, and the gutters cleaned out. I will prepare a list of chores. Young man and you will do everything on it!”

“Yes, dad.”

“Is that all you have to say, boy!”

Fearfully, Blaine shrunk down.

Daniel’s face hardened. Rising, he hovered over his son. “What are you . . . some fuck’n . . . faggot?”

A knife twisted in Blaine’s heart, even as an old man squeezed Kurt’s lifeless hand. His father would never understand. In Years later Pam kicked him out and when he died, Blaine did not go to the funeral.

“Well?” he decreed. 

Again, no answer.

“Christ, my son is a goddamned . . . faggot!” Daniel growled and then, without warning, Daniel struck Blaine across the face.

Crashed to the floor, blood ran down Blaine’s lip. He cried and Pam raced to the kitchen archway and suddenly stopped.

Towering over his son, Daniel barked. “Get out of my sight!” 

Scampering up the stairs Blaine threw himself on his bed sobbing. Pulling a pillow into his chest, he lay there trembling as tears soaked the fabric. A few minutes later he heard the front door slam and the car start up.

Sometime later, his mother walked into Blaine’s room with milk and a sandwich. Sitting on the side of the bed, she put the plate down. Smelling of gin, she cradled her blubbering son as only a mother could. In a soft tone she said, “It is alright Blaine. I’ve always known you were different.”


	4. Troubles

Avoiding his father came easy since Daniel barely gave his son the time of day. During dinner, he hid behind the newspaper or spent most of his spare time in the garage or the basement. All this suited Blaine fine though he did not know what to do about the often-volatile situation. A cutting remark here and a raised voice there became a constant reminder of what Blaine now saw as a failure. The voice in the back of his mind told him he let his parents down while his heart thumped out another message. Confusion reigned as he tried to understand his feelings while avoiding his dad. The days following the fateful discovery became a morass of emotions stewing in a deep pot. Blaine had no idea what might crawl up out of it.

His mother tried to keep it altogether and that became difficult as Daniel became increasingly entrenched in his nonacceptance. Suddenly he seemed to find the righteous path and he wanted to cancel Blaine’s school transfer, claiming it to be a waste of money. Of course, Pam’s strident objection, started another argument. She tried to shelter her son from their squabbles by engaging her progressively inebriated husband in less used areas of the house.

Attending Dalton brightened Blaine’s spirits because it meant he spent less time in the presence of his father. It also resulted in seeing his mother less than he liked and that had an adverse effect. After the first couple of weeks, the young teen spiraled depending on the ongoing battles on the home front. His father stroked the ‘faggot in the family’ gossip mill with the overtly religious side of the Anderson clan. Regardless of his mother’s acceptance and continued support, her son felt embarrassed, angry, lost and unloved.

One afternoon his father arrived home all juiced to be confronted by an angry wife. A mutual friend had told Pam her husband had been slagging their son at the bar. She engaged Daniel in verbal combat within minutes of him staggering in the door. From his room Blaine could not hear the details, but it made his so angry he cried. Shortly after the front door slammed again followed by squealing tires in the driveway.

The next morning, Blaine carefully went down to breakfast to find his father nowhere to be seen. Relieved, for the first time that week he enjoyed his meal. Stepping out the front door the driveway looked wet telling Blaine his father spent the night somewhere else. Feeling the cool rain on his face eased the fear he felt when he woke up. Splashed through the puddles on his way to school, his elevated mood did not hold. At school, the usual bullies picked on him, but the worst came when some of his friends shunned him and called him faggot. After a deplorable day he got home to find the back of his jacket streaked with spit to his father sitting in his chair chanting the word fag.

Racing up the stairs Blaine sat in his room until he heard his mom enter through the back door. Trotting down the hall, he wanted to get her attention before they started up again. From the top of the stairs, he noticed her face as she looked at the coat Blaine had thrown on the floor. Picking it up her face changed when she looked at the mess caked on the back. As if by instinct, her eye caught her sons at the top of the stairs. The sadness on her face almost broke Blaine’s heart.

Stepping down one step, the teen gave his mother a boyish smile which fell when he heard his dad yell, “The squirt is in his room crying like a poof.”

Shooting her son a quick look, she took off her coat and waved for him to go back to his room. Drawing in a deep breathe, sad brown eyes gazed back at his mother turned away. Lowering his head, Blaine turned and walked back the lonely hall. He had barely gone a few steps she he heard his mother saying something to her father. Pressing his hand against the wall to steady himself a tear rolled down his cheek. Loudly inhaling his head thumped on the hard surface in front of him.

His father’s voice rose and then things quieted down again. Placing a hand on his chest, Blaine felt his heart pounding beneath his ribs. The tension downstairs, ate at his happy-go-lucky nature driving his despair deeper. Hate festered in his throat. Hate of his father and hate of himself. Most of all he wished he had someone to hold and speak to. For a second the thought about calling his brother in Los Angeles and then deflated. Cooper would only pick on him. Feeling alone, he slid down the wall and crouched there for a long time with his head on the wall.

The noise down stairs faded to a dull buzz in Blaine’s ears. Frightened and uncertain, he loathed himself for allowing all this to happen. If he had been like his older brother, they would all be happy. The fighting, the cold silence and his mother’s crying fell squarely on his young shoulders.

Brooding, Blaine listened and heard only calm. Hoping his mother had gone back into the kitchen, Blaine crawled over to the top of the stairs. When he reached the edge, he heard quieter voices.

“―a boy, Daniel” Pam’s voice sounded even but hard.

“You always wanted a girl and now you got one.” Daniel’s voice had a sharpness to it.

“Yes, I would have liked to have another child but you―”

“Don’t you go there! It’s your fault―”

Blaine’s sniffles washed out the silent word drifting from the living room. His mother wanted a girl? Resting his head in his hands Blaine drew in a deep breath as he thought that maybe she got her wish after all.

His father’s voice suddenly grew louder. “What he needs is a good thrashing to make him a man.”

“Daniel!”

His father laughter overshadowed his mother’s word. A few seconds of tense silence followed in which Blaine heard a bottle hit the floor.

“You’ve had enough.” Blaine’s mother chided.

“I’ll need more to continue this shit show,” Daniel shot back. “Francis says there is this the therapy that will shock the fag out of him. He’ll be kissing pussy by the time they are done with him.”

“You’ll do no such thing and watch your mouth, he can hear us.”

Daniel yelled at the top of his voice. “Faggot!”

“For god’s sake, Daniel.”

“I don’t care if the freak can hear us! Hear that, Blaine you’re a freak!”

“You don’t mean that,” Pam’s voice rose over her husband’s as he yelled.

“Get it into your head, Pam. He’s a disappointment to the family.”

“He’s a disappointed to no one.”

“Someone made him choose this and I’m going to find out who. I’m going to kill the fucker!” Daniel growled at his wife.

“No one did this. It’s not a choice.”

“I should kick the little fucker out. After all, he’s―”

“He’s our son!”

Harshly laughing, Daniel yelled something at his wife in a language be rarely his half-Filipino father use and he then stormed out of the house. The silence held fast and then a young teen heard sobbing as his mother drew closer to the kitchen. Before he could move, his mother came into view and stopped. Puffy red eyes instantly gazed up the stairs to find her horrified son sitting there. Pam dropped the bottle she carried scaring Blaine. Jumping, he tore down the hall to his room. Throwing himself on the bed, he buried his face in the pillow and cried. The harshness of his father’s tone and his words tore into his heart and soul. Fearing for his mother and hating his father, it felt as if he had been frozen in place by some unknown power. Inky darkness invaded his thoughts, leaving him chilled and feeling dizzy. His stomach turned, and he thought he would throw up.

The world spun into a dismal mass of conflict and self-denial. Nightmarish shadows swirled the good thought from his mind leaving a great pit. Squeezing the pillow, he wished he had never been born.

Just as he thought he would lose his sanity, he felt a weight settling on the edge of the bed and then a hand on his back. Turning over, he threw himself at his mother and sobbed. Stroking her shivering son’s back, Pam let him cry it out. His sobs slowly diminished, and she held him until he started to pull away. With a sad face she wiped the tears from his eyes with a Kleenex from the bedside.

“Mom?” the younger Anderson boy’s voice could barely he heard.

Drawing in an emotional breath, Pam held it for a moment and then drew her son closer. In a tender voice she whispered, “I am sorry, my dearest, you had to hear that.”

The muscle in a teenager’s chest beat furiously making it hard to breath. In a quivering voice, Blaine mumbled, “Am I sick?”

Cradling her boy, Pam gently rocked him back and forth. “Oh, my darling boy, you’re not sick.”

“The boys are school call me sick. My dad . . . why does dad want me to―”

“Sh-h-h-h, dearest. You’re not what you father says.”

“He calls me faggot. The kids at school call me faggot.”

“That is such a nasty word, my boy.”

“They call me other things and spit on me.”

Rocking her son, Pam gently said, “I know, dear. I know.”

“Why do they do that mom? What does dad―”

“It’s nothing to do with you, Blaine.”

“Yes, it does!”

Pulling back, Pam placed three fingers under Blaine’s chin and lifted his head. Wiping his soft eyes, she gazed into them as if reading his soul. “Blaine, tell me, has anyone ever done something to you they should not.”

Puzzled by the question, Blaine blinked and then he remembered a conversation they had when he was in elementary school. After the police came and arrested one of the teaching assistants, they had the touching talk. Barely seven years old, the whole thing confused Blaine but it also made him think. The sight of the heavyset man being led passed the auditorium door stuck in his mind and then the rumours started. The mind re-ran his mother’s words and a flustered teen shook his head.

Licking her lips, Pam added, “Blaine, are you sure.”

Blaine looked at his mother with honest hazel eyes. “Yes, mom. No one has touched me that way.”

For a second, she looked relieved and then she bit her lower lip. “Do look at boys or girls?”

“Mom, I don’t understand. I look at both.”

“Ok, Blaine. When you look at girls, do you find them interesting.”

“Interesting? I like girls.”

“Do you like girls or do you like girls.” Pam accentuated the last word.

Confounded by the way his mother asked, Blaine’s dark brows pushed together. His mouth moved as if he tried to find the words and then he blushed. With wide eyes he stared at his mother with his chin hanging low. Clearing his throat, he said in a very quiet voice, “I like girls . . . but―”

“But?” Pam softly asked.

“But . . . I . . .” Blaine drew in a deep breath as the colour drained out of his skin. “Mom . . . am I sick?”

Pulling her son into a loving hug, Pam rested her head on top of her son’s. “No, my sweet boy. You are just different and different is good.”

“I don’t understand,”

“Blaine, you are different in that you are attracted to boys in the way most boys are to girls. That doesn’t make you sick. It makes you who you are.”

“A faggot.”

Pushing Blaine back, Pam looked into his eyes and firmly said, “It is a nasty word you will have to get used to because some people are ignorant and prejudiced. It is like some people pick on those with a different skin colour or religion. They don’t want to understand that you are a beautiful boy who happens to like boys.”

Blaine’s lower lip quivered, and Pam drew him closer. Holding him for a long moment, she added, “My dearest, you’re a homosexual, and it is not a bad thing. Those boys who spit on you don’t want to believe you’re just part of nature’s grand design. When I was in college, they had a society for people who are homosexual. It was a place they and their friends could go and talk.”

“Did you know fa―” Blaine stopped as if the word choked in his throat.

“Did I know gay people.” She stopped when Blaine looked puzzled. “It is a politer way day homosexual than the words your father used. It is a term accepted by those who are homosexual and is celebrated in larger cities.”

“You, knew gay people?”

“Yes, my dear and I still do and so does your father.”

Blaine’s face scrunched up.

Running a hand through her son’s curls. Pam tried to keep her expression from changing. “I can’t explain it to you Blaine because I don’t understand your father at this moment. He works with a lesbian . . . a gay woman. They get along fine, but . . . I don’t know.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Blaine, you’ll learn there are many people out there who have gay friends. There are organizations of parents who support their gay children. In the big cities they have parades celebrating gay people.

“Have you been to one of those parades?”

“No.”

“So why is dad being so mean?”

“I don’t know. He likes Leslie, but I guess it is different when the gay person is a member of your own family.”

Staring up with large doe eyes, a single, almost silent word escaped Blaine’s mouth. “Mom?”

“Yes, darling.”

“Do you still love me?”

The look on his mother’s face suddenly changed and then she started to cry. Drawing her son into a tighter hug, she rocked him gently back and forth, “Yes, my dear Blaine, I love you. I love you so much. You’re my little miracle.”

Sitting in Dalton’s common room, Blaine remembered his mother words with a small smile. Two months ago, he started at the private school and he liked it. No one spat on him, well not on school grounds. What happened outside the gates turned out very different, but inside the walls, he felt safe for the first time in many months. A week into his new adventure, he auditioned for the rock star choir of the school―the Warblers. That evening he ran home from the bus stop and bouncing into the kitchen. Hugging his mother, he excitedly told her that he got in. Then his father passed through the room, making a snide comment killing the euphoria.

A couple of weeks ago, the Warbler council surprised Blaine with the opportunity to sing a solo at their next concert. They told him his voice brought the entire group together and they wanted to see if he could lead them on stage. Again, his father could not say anything nice while his mother praised him and said she would be there to watch him sing. The comment started another argument. Retreating to his room, Blaine endured as he turned up the music to drown out the yelling the floor below.

With a book on his lap and his satchel pressed against the chair, Blaine tried to study and found it hard. Water welled up in his eyes as he tried not to think of the phone call he just received. The school had a limited number of double rooms for students who attended from long distance. Originally, he did not have a dorm room, but his mother arrangements and he ended sharing a room with a fellow Warbler named Trent. The stocky boy and Blaine took a shining to one another right off, but not in that way. Blaine found Trent serious, honest and funny. For the first time he felt he belonged and had someone he could speak to. He soon learned Trent had a gay uncle, but when it came to his fellow Warblers, Blaine did not feel comfortable enough to speak about his deepest private affairs.

With his head bowed, Blaine did not see the words anymore. With water in his eyes, he could not concentrate, nor did he hear someone walking up behind him. The scuffing of a sole on the polished floor startled him and he looked up to see tall, blond Jeff staring down at him with a concerned look. Blinking, Blaine tried to pull himself together.

Couching down so he could look at Blaine in the eye, Jeff placed a hand on his arm. “Do you want someone to talk to?”

Shaking his head, Blaine wiped the moisture from under his eyes. Regardless of the school’s policies, Blaine felt no one would understand his pitiful plight.

“Blaine, what’s the matter.” Jeff commented with deep compassion in his voice. “You were off at practice this afternoon and we are all aware of your strained family life.”

Releasing a sigh, Blaine rolled his eyes, so he looked directly at Jeff. “I’m staying here this weekend.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Blaine. There’s not going to be a lot of people around either.”

“I know. Even Trent is going home.”

“I think Thad is going to be here. You could hang out with him.”

“I don’t know.”

“Blaine, what is really wrong. You’ve been out of sorts for days.”

Out of sorts? No one knew him that well, or perhaps they did. Irrespective of the fact he liked Jeff, Blaine hesitated, “I don’t think you’ll understand.”

The look on Jeff’s face became more serious. Patting his fellow Warbler on the shoulder, Jeff flipped the book closed with his other hand. “Come on, we’re going somewhere to cheer you up.”

“What?”

“Don’t argue with me or I will yell for help to drag you to the choir room. A good song does wonders for the soul.”

“Jeff?”

“Come on droopy lips, let’s go.” Jeff pulled on Blaine’s arm.

Giving in, Blaine stuffed the book in his bag and got to his feet. The fact he stood did not stop him from complaining. “Jeff, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. We have a concert next week and we can’t have our potential star letting moping around. We’re going to get stupid and sing happy songs until that smile of yours light up the room.”

Shaking his head, Blaine trotted along behind Jeff. Running through the corridors, Jeff threw the doors to the music room and loudly announced, “Guys we have a four-alarm emergency. Our canary is in the dumps and needs cheering up.”

The other Warbler stared and before anyone could say a word, Jeff started to sing. Within a couple of words, others joined in.

_Right right, turn off the lights_  
_We gonna lose our minds tonight_  
_What's the dealio?_  
_I love when it's all too much_  
_Five AM turn the―_

“Hey guys. Guys!” Blaine waved his arms about as he stormed into the center of the couches.

Making a face, Jeff’s arms rose into the air. “What?”

“You’re killing it.” Blaine complained with a half smirk.

Jeff stuck a pose and then poked his friend in the chest with a wicked grin on his face. “I dare you to put us in your place, Blaine,”

Puffing himself up, Blaine pulled his lips together and glanced at everyone before his smooth, tenor voiced filled the room. The others joined in at the right point.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aCRgOZSd-g)

_Right right, turn off the lights_  
_We gonna lose our minds tonight_  
_What's the dealio?_

_I love when it's all too much_  
_Five AM turn the radio up_  
_Where's the rock and roll?_

_Party crasher, penny snatcher_  
_Call me up if you are gangsta_  
_Don't be fancy_  
_Just get dancey_  
_Why so serious?_  
_So raise your glass if you are wrong_  
_In all the right ways_  
_All my underdogs, we will never be, never be_  
_Anything but loud_  
_And nitty gritty dirty little freaks_  
_Won't you come on, and come on, and_  
_Raise your glass_  
_Just come on and come and_  
_Raise your glass!_

_Slam slam oh hot damn_  
_What part of party don't you understand?_  
_Wish you'd just freak out_  
_Can't stop coming in hot_  
_I should be locked up right on the spot_  
_It's so on right now_  
_Party crasher, panty snatcher_  
_Call me up if you are gangsta'_  
_Don't be…_

Everyone cheered and some of them slapped Blaine on the back. Proud of himself, he turned around on the spot, taking in the smiles. Feeling moderately better, the huge lump in the center of his chest reminded him of the turmoil at home. With each passing day it grew larger and then phone call today finally broke it. Jeff’s insistence and their fellow Warbler’s voices could not free him from what he felt. He found himself standing in the middle of the room surrounded by people he could call friends with the saddest look on his face.

“Blaine?” Trent inquired as he rose from the couch, Crossing the floor, he stopped in front of his roommate putting a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”

Blaine sighed and looked down to the rug. His tongue felt heavy and his heart beat in the pit of his throat. The acid in his stomach and he could not take it anymore. In a low voice, he mumbled, “I . . . can’t do this . . . anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” Jeff asked as he stepped closer.

Heaving in a huge breath, Blaine looked Jeff in the eyes. An abruptly wave of fear quaked down his back, leaving thinking of his father’s hateful words. Courage faltered, and he began to rapidly draw in sharp breaths of air. The colour drained from his face.

“Blaine?” Trent glanced at his fellow Warblers. “We’re your friends and we will―”

Waving both hands in front of himself, Blaine’s cut his roomie off. “Guys, I’m . . . gay.”

No one spoke for a moment and then Trent wrapped his arms the shorter Blaine. Seconds later everyone in the room joined the growing circles around the distraught teen. Without a word being said, each gave him a hug.

When it broke up, Blaine stood there with tears in his eyes. In a shaky voice, he said, “I’ve never told anyone and my dad―”

“Your dad is being a dick,” Trent announced as his fingers squeezed his friend’s shoulder.

Pushing through the throng. David stopped in front of Blaine. The dark skinned gave him a sympathetic look and then said, “Blaine, none of us here will pick on you or belittle you because you’re gay. I know there are some, like the fatheads on the football team, who bug you off school grounds, but you will never find hate between these walls. You’re a Warbler and Warblers take care of their own.”

Everyone cheered leaving Blaine with the warm sensation of utter acceptance. For the first time in weeks he felt he belonged.


	5. Right in Left

Fingers pressed against fingers as Blaine refused to release the hand, he held for so many decades. The fears of youth no longer pulled at him only to be replaced with the stark realizations of what aging truly meant. Together they lived long, happy lives regardless of the ebbs and sways of the modern world. Underemployment, fighting with agents and producers and almost going broke setting up their own Broadway production pulled them thin. If he had a choice, Blaine would trade none of it. Foolish people believed life would be easy.

Slowly closing his eyes, he realized the other hand had been in his most of his life. On the beach, in a taxi, jaunts on the subway, sleeping on planes or just cuddled up on the couch reading. In this way they never seemed to be apart. Strangely, Kurt brought his lover a pillow with an arm attached to it. At first Blaine thought is weird, but a year later, when Kurt spent all those months in Hollywood, it soothed. Blaine could not leave for any length of time due to the fact he sang his heart out on Broadway.

Rubbing a finger over the man’s soft palm, Blaine smiled. Kurt never had callused hands because Blaine did what Kurt called the dirty work. Rolling his eyes when Kurt bitched about a speck of dirt on his outfit. Thus, a loving husband did all the hammering, tightening of screws and tuning pianos and so forth. Cooking landed squarely on Kurt’s shoulders and the other chores they split down the middle including the late-night feedings of the fidgety twins. Poor Rachel, all the pumping to keep those two ravenous children happy. A delivery service made the trip every second day, but on weekends, husband and mother visited. The three men soon became accustomed to Rachel pressing breast milk during a movie. When her own children arrived, the odd ritual continued unabated. Later in life, not so subtle jokes lightened late dinners.

Children made life exciting for the starstruck lovers. Yes, they argued, but their emotions blossomed in easy stages as they surmounted each little travesty. The twins had their own schedule which mostly conflicted and the word hell best described the first few months. Teething proved to be a pain, but neither man would have passed up the aggravating milestone. Someone wrote, love existed within a blanket best described as deaf, dumb and blind. In the early morning hours, deaf played no role.

In the bedroom, they shared no exclusive style. Blaine loved the sensation of Kurt deep inside him while Kurt wallowed within similar endeavors. When they were young, it seemed they forever found odd locations or positions, but, as the years stretched on, prolific animalistic sex morphed into something loving and comfortable. When the twins first passed through their doors, they feared their sex life had died forever. On the contrary, they found long moments of staying north of the equator outrageously stimulating. On those rare nights when the twins slept, a simple kiss exploded into full-fledged, all out, dirty intercourse. The next day would be long, but, damn, well worth it.

As age moved along, Blaine and Kurt reminisced about the early days of lulling the twins to sleep. Cuddling on the couch of their modest, but tiny apartment, each held a child. Alex usually ended up with Blaine, Kate with Kurt. It seemed only natural since Blaine’s sperm mixed with Rachel’s egg begot a boy and Kurt a girl. A modern family, the twins made an odd mix of one single mother and two fathers. Carrying twins while singing on Broadway stretched their friendship. 

At night, when the twins finally drifted off, the lovers spoke silently, Kurt liked to speak about what may be and Blaine looked to the past for guidance. Their ups and downs taught them much, but children brought it all into focus. No longer sixteen, they felt better prepared. 

Looking back to the day when Blaine first saw Kurt, it felt much like one of those wild nights when the twins safely snoozed. Almost eighty years ago, Blaine found it hard to sleep. Raging stiffness of another kind kept him up. Relieving himself came surprisingly easy as he imagined an older, well, early twenties, assistant manager. Physically, sated, he stared at his right hand which, only ours before, held a strange man’s palm. It made for an awkward gate as he dragged the unsuspecting new kid, down the hall. Strangely, even gracelessly, he finished the dirty deed with his left.

Over the years, Kurt's left hand naturally fit into Blaine’s right. The touch of familiar skin spoke volumes and even though, a moment ago, the light of Kurt’s life extinguished, it still held true. What else could Blaine consider as he moved in a world filled with both sorrow and enduring joy? He chose joy and Kurt would have it no other way. In response, the surviving spouse turned his hand right hand over and lovingly slid it into Kurt’s left. 

The skin tingled the moment Kurt’s first touch and an old man laughed. At first, he thought it some allergic reaction to the cologne Kurt doused himself with, but, then, as the curtain descended on the final act of a loving life, Blaine paused. With stark realization, he finally came to comprehend the truth of that simple act. On those very steps, his proposal said it all. “We met right here. I took this man’s hand and we ran down that hallway . . . and for those that know me, I’m not in the habit of taking people’s hands I’ve never met before . . . but I think that my soul knew something that my mind and body didn’t know yet. It knew that our hands were meant to hold each other fearlessly and forever, which is why it’s never really felt like I‘ve been getting to know you. It’s always felt like I was remembering you from something. As if every lifetime you and I have lived, we’ve chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again for eternity. And I just feel so lucky to have found you so soon in this life time. All I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted to do is to spend my life loving you.” 

All thought stopped as slow, easy sobs rocked his elderly body. Squeezed Kurt’s lifeless hand tighter, and old man suddenly smiled as the memory of that day came to him again. Kurt left Dalton half an hour after his introduction to the Warblers. Then and now, Blaine felt amazingly content. 

Dalton had been there forever or at least it felt that way. The old buildings had been updated over the years, but the old-world charm lingered. The grounds ranging around it encompassing a sports field, tennis and basketball courts and gardens. A younger version of Blaine found himself sitting on a bench under a tree with a particularly heavy book rested between his thighs. The same page never seemed to end as tired eyes stared at the words over and over again. The mind fixated on the weird dream that invaded his sleep the night before. Images of men on horseback charging across a grassy field and over leafy barriers flashed within what he considered normal. Someone fell into the mud and women in high collars and long dressed gasped while stiff backed footmen moved here and there carrying silver trays. A large building towered over the trees where a flag with a coats-of-arms wrestled with the wind. Lord so-in-so lived there.

When he woke, his heart pounded in his chest, making him short of breath. A quick thought involved calling his mother, but it sent a cold spike up his back. Lying there for the longest time, the ticking of the clock became an irritating nuisance. His dreams rarely bothered him. This one had a disturbing edge. 

Classes came and went with the Warblers providing only the slightest disruption the school’s well-oiled schedule. Everything went on as it should or did it? Twice Blaine found himself at the bottom of the stairs for no apparent reason. The third time he aimlessly passed along the same hall, frustration kicked in. 

Gazing up at the curving flight of steps, in two realities Blaine shook his head. In one he stared at his hand and in the other he glanced up into the blue sky. Warbler practice in three hours and no class in-between. Needing to clear his head, he threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder, Blaine absently made his way through Dalton’s gates. Minutes passed, and the noise of residential streets grew into the buzz of a commercial boulevard. His feet carried him automatically toward a window of a clothing store where a smile pulled at his lips. Long wavy hair captured the imagination and in his mind’s eye, this man offered everything Blaine wanted. Gorgeous, tall and employed, thoughts of marriage danced in his head even though the courage to say hello languished somewhere in the pit of his stomach. 

The honking of a car scared him from his stupor. Spinning around, he quickly glanced at his watch. A loud sigh escaped his lips and he glanced down at his watch―one and half hours until practice. Where had the time gone? What had he been thinking of? His mind had gone utterly blank and for some reason his eyes shifted to his right hand. 

The stomach growled as he looked through the window once more where he saw no sign of the gorgeous man. Pouting, Blaine glanced about realizing the Lima Bean resided in the middle of the next block. The lineup lasted forever, but finally he held a medium drip and a large sugar cookie. He loved sugar. 

A tearful old man grinned. A couple of years later, such treats became an unrecognized side effect of larger concerns. Now, that he had time to think about it, old Blaine understood his brooding. Well, he thought he did, though Kurt often reminded him. Over the years mind always went to sweets when had had issues with Kurt. Seventy odd years ago turned out no different. Back then, sticking a second chewy cookie in his month ran into an interruption. Trent stood behind him with a large coffee in hand with shy smiled.

Startled, Blaine instinctively said, “Please join me.”

Pulling out a chair, the heavyset Warbler sat. Leaning back, he sipped his beverage and then innocently said, “Plans for the weekend?”

“Ah, nothing really. Family stuff,” Blaine absently replied.

“Oh?” Trent glanced away and then back. “Is your father still―”

Blaine let it hang for a moment and then he sighed. “It’s better than it was five months ago, but I don’t think much will change. Thanks to you guys, I no longer feel alone.”

Trent chugged on his coffee and then warmly smiled at his friend. “I’m happy I . . . we have been able to make is easier on you. He was a little rough on you the last―”

“I’m proud of who I am now. There’s no going back in the closet for me.” Blaine returned the affectionate smile.

“I don’t think you were in the closet, Blaine. You just did not know who you were yet. Still, your dad could try to understand better. Your mom is cool.”

“Yeah, she’s real cool, but it’s alright Trent. Dad . . . well . . . he’s dad. I don’t think he’ll ever accept.”

“We do.”

“The Warblers have been my rock.”

“Blaine . . . oh . . . let’s drop it.”

“Yeah.”

Trent made a face. “I hope I haven’t said anything wrong. You look distracted.”

“No, no,” Blaine shook the cobwebs out of his head. “Contemplating Friday's history test.”

“Oh?”

“History is not my strong point.”

“I hate calculus.”

Blaine laughed. Years later, he still disliked history and Kurt loved it as long as it involved fashion. New York fashion week became a constant in their lives.

Hazel eyes darted to the door where a loud chatter announced the arrival of members of the football team. Blaine cringed because, regardless of policy, some of them has strong views they he did not agree with. While they did not voice themselves on school grounds, in other venues the junior Warbler experienced stinging barbs.

Grinning, Trent glanced over his shoulder and frowned The Warblers looked out for each other. Turning back to Blaine, he asked in a soft voice, “You ready for rehearsal?”

Blaine’s face brightened. “I’m always ready. We’re ready.”

Sipping his coffee Trent nodded. “You sound great, as usual.”

“Thanks” Blaine almost blushed. Everyone told him he has a stunning voice and he tried in all humility to stop it from going to his head.

Trent’s brow furrowed. “That was an odd impromptu yesterday.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine blankly asked.

“That Kurt, kid. I’ve never seen him before. Dan told me there have been no new enrollments since the beginning of the semester.”

One of Blaine’s bushy eyebrows shot up.

Trent went on. “Just seemed peculiar to me.”

“Now that I think about it, it did.” Young Blaine nodded. Holding the still hand of his lover, old Blaine recognized how true that statement turned out to be.

Trent shrugged and looked away for a moment as if thinking. When he turned his attention back to the conversation, he made a face and remained silent. 

“Yeah.” Blaine moaned. The word rolled off out of his mouth as if they had been spoken in a dream. He blinked.

“My, that history exam must really be getting to you,” Trent stated.

“Yes . . . err . . . no.” Blaine found solace sipping his coffee. A wave of uncertainty washed through him.

Trent blurted out, “What?”

Blaine sucked in a heavy breath. His eyes became distant. “I think I better talk to David and Wes.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling.”

Tracking down the two Warblers took little effort. The three usually had a brief meeting following each practice. A soft discomfort within Blaine’s chest made him hesitate. Wes and David did not seem to notice. They sat behind the table looking at their notes. Sitting at the end of one couch, Blaine stared at a pile of sheet music. Notes rolled along the bars and words scrawled beneath altered lyrics. His eyes slowly went to the palm of his right hand. 

His eyes studied the lines on his palm and how they seemed to play against one another. He had never really gazed at his hand in this fashion before, but now he could not drag his eyes from it. It looked soft and lightly tanned by natural pigment. One line stretched on a slight curve from one side to the other intersecting with another line at some point. The skin seemed warm even though a faint hint of the air-conditioned breeze passed over it.

Something passing high across the window caught his attention and hazel eyes shifted that way though his head remained still. The bright blue sky peeked through the thick trees lining the grounds and overhanging the windows. The colour sent a shiver up his spine and he blinked. The blue reminded him of the soft colours he saw in the eyes belonging to a boy on the stairs. They stared into his own with such intent surrounded by softness. For a second, Blaine did not know to think as they bore into his soul and then someone brushed by him knocking his shoulder. He flinched and lost contact leaving him feeling oddly sad.

“I think we’re ready,” Wes commented as his gaze followed Blaine’s toward the window.

Caught by surprise, Blaine blinked and looked back to his friends. A little embarrassed he grinned and said, “Yes, we sound . . . good.”

“Ok, Blaine, what?” David asked. “You’re off today.”

“The opposition,” Blaine whispered. Where did that come from?

David smiled. “The competition list has not been posted.”

“There’s really little to worry about,” Wes said.

“If we go by last year, we’re certain winners,” David added.

Wes gave David a look. “I’ve been hearing stuff about these New Directions.”

Nodding, David said, “Rachel. She’s got talent,”

Wes added, “I’ve seen videos of her singing on YouTube.”

Making a face, Blaine said, “Perhaps they’re worried.”

Wes and David exchanged looks. Wes asked, ‘What do you mean?”

“You saw that new kid.” Blaine’s chest tightened.

“He did seem a bit out of place,” David commented.

“Didn’t see him today,” Wes stated. 

Shuddering, Blaine could not shake an odd sensation.

The others noticed. David suddenly speculated, “If the New Directions are resorting to spying….”

Blaine cut David off. “Let me handle this.”

The two senior Warblers gazed at Blaine for a long second. They slowly nodded.

“What have I gotten myself into,” Blaine said to himself as he walked inattentively across the lawn toward the gardens. A hand reached into his blazer pocket where his fingers found a scrap of paper. He asked Kurt for his number. He felt sick. 

His feet took him in wide circles for almost half an hour. Stopping under a wide tree, he glanced up at the foliage. The sight of it settled his nerves. Why did he struggle with something so simple? Suck it up.

His fingers trembled as they touched the numbers and then the phone clicked, followed by a dreadful ringing sound. The breath he inhaled hitched in his throat as his heart pounded in his chest. What the fuck and what if, bounced through his thoughts like a hundred basketballs hitting the gym floor from a great height all at once. For a moment he felt like slamming the phone down, but then, like fate dealt a card, a high-pitched voice said hello. 

“Hi Kurt, this is . . . Blaine?” He forced the words out as a bead of sweat rolled own the cheek. 

“Blaine?” The single work sounded both confused and excited.

Pulling in a deep breath, Blaine caught his nerves in a vice and asked, “Are you free tomorrow.”

The pause that followed caused Blaine a small amount of pain. Relief came when Kurt replied, “I have a spare block at the end of the day.”

“Why don’t you come by Dalton?”

“Ok, why?”

“We can talk over a latte.”

“Ok, I can be there about two thirty.”

“Good.”

“See you tomorrow.” Click.

Leaning against the tree, Blaine’s found it hard to breath. His ears echoed with the sounds of his straining heart and then his chin suddenly dropped. The two boys shared something that should have been obvious from the start.


	6. Vibrations

The phone skidded across the tabletop and old Blaine jerked back blinking. At first, he did not hear it and then the sound and motion caught his attention, but adoring hazel eyes remained locked on Kurt’s still body. Moving him now would only be done one-way and he did not want to see that. The heat of a long life reflected against the flesh that pressed against flesh. What a wonderful man. What a wonderful life. 

The buzzing continued and glancing to his right, Blaine noticed the tiny thing projected an image into the air above it. The change in cell phones mirrored the amazing changes in technology. In modern times people wore the small device in the form of a bracelet or other piece of jewelry. The flashing projection, identification revealed Mary’s calling code. The text below told him she just left with her kids. For a moment an elderly man considered what this meant and then his heart sank―half an hour. His world now distilled down to the allotted time it would take her to get there. Logic said enough, while the heart wanted all the clocks to stop. He desired so much.

The intensive buzzing went on forever and then young Blaine finally opened his eyes. Head resting on his pillow and with his Warbler tie chocked him, he did not want to move. Dad blasted him when he got home, and things spiraled as his parents argued. Inside, Blaine feared as his father continued to fight the reality of his youngest child. A few weeks ago, he blew up over every little thing, but now it felt more like a simmering volcano. At times he barely recognized the boy and then he tolerated to the point they actually talked. Pam defended her son’s rights, got his phone back and kept him in Dalton. The school proved good for her son even though Daniel stopped the additional monthly payments. Pam made up the shortfall.

The young man listened in silence as the fighting ebbed and swayed like waves lashing a rocky shore. To his astonishment, his mother grew a backbone and stood up to the man who believed he ruled the roost. As time dragged on, dad grew more and more distant and Daniel began sleeping in the spare room. Mother and son grew closer, especially after she visited Dalton to listen to her son sing. The first time he saw her in the audience, Blaine almost fainted. The day would be his first solo in front of an audience, she sat proudly in the third row. Afterward, she took her son and some of his friends out for treats. That night his mom and dad had a huge fight and Daniel vanished for a few days. 

Closing his eyes, Blaine angrily pulled at his tie. Again, the cell phone jumped, and Blaine let out a sigh. Rolling over he tried to ignore like he had all-day. Luckily Dalton had a no cell phone policy inside the building, and this forced Blaine to turn it off. Getting used to it did not take too long, but then he dreaded what he found when he turned it back on. Yesterday, he received seven texts from his father telling him to do this or to do that. 

His mother did not make it to today’s important performance and her absence upset him. With the light blaring in his face, he could not see her even if he tried. The Warblers blew away the competition moving them to the next level. Finding her waiting for him would have made his day.

The teenager worried about his mother as he grew more distant with his father. To give his dad credit, Daniel tried to bond with his son, but working on a car did not quite break the ice. While his youngest son enjoyed the afternoon, his father avoided anything to do with whom and what Blaine had become. His mother brought them refreshments and watched for a while. She looked content, but later that night he heard them fighting. 

By the time it buzzed three more times, ignoring it became harder. For the fourth time in short-order, he reluctantly stretched his arm across the bed searching for the irritating device. Swiping the display, his heart leapt because the display revealed eleven texts from Kurt. What the fuck! His fingers scrolled to the top of the list of his father’s demands until he paused at the one from his mom. The day had been so full he barely had time to check his phone.

Pam Anderson 9:22 AM: Blaine, sing your heart out. Love mom.

The finger moved finding two more from his dad. Delete and delete.

First message from Kurt 10:04 AM: Courage. :):):) K

Blaine smiled because had not expected to hear from Kurt. Something about the lanky teen intrigued him and it stung when Kurt left the meeting with Wes and David the other day upset. Blaine chased him down as Kurt marched to the bus stop. Kurt texted him later that night to say thanks and their friendship by text began. A couple of days later they met for at the Lima Bean and both had an excellent time. Blaine liked hanging out with Kurt.

Second message: Blaine, you made my day. K

Third message: How did your invitation go? K

Fourth message: Blaine?

Fifth message: You must have killed them. The blogs have lit up. :):):) K

Grinning, a bewildering warmth spread through Blaine’s chest. The first five texts spread through the entire day and then everything changed an hour before school would have ended―six texts within ten minutes. Startled, Blaine looked at his watch thinking his mom would be home soon.

Sixth message: Blaine? 

Seventh message: Blaine, you there Blaine?

His heart pounded in his chest as hazel eyes stared at the time stamps. The eighth message arrived five seconds after number seven: Gods, Blaine where are you!

Ten seconds later, number nine: He.

Message ten: Fuck, Blaine!

Seconds later, came number eleven: He kissed me.

Blaine dropped the phone and it flopped to the floor. What? Who kissed him? Words jumbled up in his mind as he felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

Fumbling over the side of the bed, he grappled for the device. Juggling it, he swiped his thumb across it looking for his contact list. The text meant little, but the words carried emotion. His mind flashed with images of a Neanderthal hovered over Kurt like a fly on a half-eaten banana. His heart flew into his throat, bringing up a number of unsettling thoughts and emotions. 

Fingers slid down the glass plate and Kurt’s name rolled by. He doubled back and hit it. Pressing the phone to his ear right ear, he listened to the electronic ringtone feeling rather apprehensive. The sound seemed to last forever and then answering service kicks in. “This is Kurt Hummel, I cannot take your call at this time. Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Kurt . . . you―” The words must have carried through because he heard a sudden click followed by a heavy intake of air. 

“Ahh . . . What . . . who . . . Blaine” the high-pitched voice said into the phone. Surprised filled his tone.

“Kurt . . . Kurt, you alright?” Blaine’s pulse quickened as he fought to keep his sentiments in check.

“Thank god―” Long pause. “―Blaine . . . I . . . fuck . . . I don’t know.”

Blaine’s heart thumped against his ribs. He had seen Kurt frustrated by never heard him swear. In a soft controlled tone, Blaine said, “Calm down and tell me what happened.”

“Karofsky kissed me.”

“What?”

“He kissed me.”

Anger exploded within Blaine’s chest as the brain processed the emotions he perceived over the phone. His breath caught in his throat and his right hand curled up into a tight ball. Jealously took him quickly followed by rage. Steeling himself, he forced a calm response. “Kurt, tell me.”

The other boy sniffled. “He shoved me into a locker―”

“You alright?” Blaine’s chest tightened with the thought of that big oaf touching Kurt that way. Biting his upper lip, a stark reality struck―why did he feel this way?

“No . . . yes . . . I don’t know. I chased him into the locker room and confronted him. He kissed me.”

Proud of his acting skills, Blaine could not stop himself from vehemently expressing a word he admittedly disliked, “Fuck!”

“Blaine―” Kurt sobbed.

“Kurt, you want me to . . . no I can’t.” Blaine felt sick and then his mind went to his father. Only once had he been hit, but just the thought of someone doing this to Kurt made his blood boil. 

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice rose an octave.

“Kurt, I’ll be at McKinley by eleven tomorrow.”

“Yes . . . ah . . . that would . . .” Someone yelled from afar. “. . . Yes dad. Right away . . . Damn . . . Blaine, I have to go.”

“Courage, Kurt. I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

Squeezing Kurt’s unmoving hand, old Blaine smiled. A tinge of pain pinched his chest because Karofsky terrified his future husband. The confrontation on the stairs went as expected and for a moment Blaine thought he would get a taste of the Fury. In the end, it resolved nothing because Karofsky stormed off and Kurt got weirdly upset. Surprisingly, David turned out to be a nice guy once he got passed his fear and accepted himself. When the former bully and he got together, Blaine felt he had somehow betrayed Kurt even though the two of them had split up months before. In hindsight and old age, Blaine understood why he fell for Karofsky even though he felt nothing like Kurt. Loneliness and the drive to move on made him accept the first offer of comfort he offered to him. By the time he realized what he had done, Blaine had passed the point of no return in his eyes. Real love proved hard to forget, as Blaine would find out. 

Running into the courtyard because the bus got held up in traffic, Blaine found Kurt on stairs in the courtyard with his head in his hands. Not wanting to frighten him, Blaine circled around and came at the skittish teen from the front. Kurt’s face brightened when he saw Blaine’s approach, leaving the Anderson boy thinking he might enjoy a hug from Kurt. 

After the sorted event, Blaine walked with Kurt down the street to a café a couple of blocks from the school. Silence encapsulated two teens as they sat opposite one another with a small circular table between them. The Warbler Blaine leaned back with his legs crossed under the table with his blazer undone, and tie pulled down. Kurt’s elbows rested against the table top with his fists pressed into the cheeks. The gel in Blaine’s hair held it looser than usual, revealed a soft, wavy mess while Kurt’s mane remained perfect. 

“You’re calm?” Blaine observed as he picked his coffee and sipped it. The salad in front of him had barely been touched. 

Kurt drew in a deep breath and melted back into the chair. “I’m . . . far from calm. He could have―”

“He needs to get some help.” Blaine felt awkward as his passions ran this way and that. The look on Kurt’s face when he admitted that had been his first real kiss. It outraged Blaine to think Kurt had been abused in such a fashion.

Staring across the table, Kurt brightly smiled. “Blaine, thank you for having my back. You were brave to stand up to him.”

The pit of the Warbler’s stomach turned, and he felt his knees trembled. “Anytime, Kurt.”

“Be honest with me Blaine, why did you help me?”

“Kurt, no one should go through what you have.”

“You told me you had been bullied.”

“Yes,” Blaine looked down and pushed a tomato to the edge of the plate. “Kurt, you can’t imagine the shit I went through. I had my own Neanderthal, Kurt. Some days my shoulders hurt more than I can describe. At least I found people to share it with. You don’t.”

“I have you.”

Even though his cheeks flushed pink, Blaine hesitated before he answered, “Yes, you do, Kurt?”

Kurt grinned and shyly said, “Thank you.”

For some reason Kurt made him nervous and excited at the same time, but why? Recently he took a chance and had coffee with someone a few years older than himself. The guy had long locks of wavy blondish hair and his smile melted Blaine stomach. It made him feel good to champion Kurt because, other than his mother, no one had stood in his corner for many weeks. He just could not comprehend why Kurt muddled his sentiments.

Looking at his right hand resting on his thigh, he turned it over. Slowly his eyes passed along the lines etched in his palm as if his mind computed something. The tingling sensation he felt when flesh touched flesh at the base of the stairs resurfaced and a strange warmth spread through his chest. Scratching the back of his head, Blaine struggled to with what he felt. Taking the logical road, he decided it had to be some emotional residue left over from the confrontation with Karofsky.

Regardless of his inner conflicts, lunch turned out better than he expected. The conversation rolled away from the events of the day to fashion and, of course, music. The hour quickly passed as Blaine found himself being drawn in by enthusiastic tones of a young voice. Kurt’s animated hands and the way he bounced about, ever so often made Blaine smile. Gazing across the table his drifting into a dream like space where the troubles at home swirled away. He loved the feeling and then the rudeness of reality struck—the time for parting approached. 

A lifetime later, an old man smiled as he recalled the odd feeling of amazing happiness, he felt that stressful day. Kurt always looked happy when they would meet now then after school, while Blaine, well, trudged through the giddy confusion. Every day, after practice, he strolled to the Lima Bean stopping to stare in the window where thoughts of a dishy assistant managers danced in his head. Then Kurt would arrive up for coffee with a bounce to his step and a very different sensation washed over Blaine. 

An elderly man recalled the simple things like the jittering of his cell in his pocket announcing the arrival of another heartfelt text. News of Karofsky’s expulsion brightened a hard day and then, on an afternoon walk, Kurt surprised Blaine with an impromptu wedding invitation. After all these years, Blaine still remembered the disappointment on Kurt’s face when he politely declined. He did, however, phone Kurt the morning of the festivities to offer his support and best wishes. That evening Blaine found himself pleasantly surprised when Kurt took the time to call Warbler to tell him of Finn’s song. While Blaine found it adorable denying his jealousy proved hard.

The day Kurt transferred to Dalton lazy, soft fear touched Blaine’s heard. The thought of having Kurt nearby every day excited him to the point he felt sick. Pacing the halls between classes peaking at his watch every few minutes, Blaine nervous. Part of the morning involved watching the front door and the rest vanished within his aimless wandering. Running into Wes and David brought him down to earth. Embarrassed, Blaine had to chuckle because he felt stupid.

Kurt came through the door with Carole and Burt almost on schedule. Peering through the floral displays set on a table at the intersection of two halls, he noted the headmaster come out to meet the Hummel’s. A look of fear and apprehension on Kurt’s face caused Warbler knees to buckle. Suddenly flustered, Blaine turned away and escaped down the hall. Finding a dark corner, he caught his breath as he tried to get a grip on himself. Sweat beaded on his forehead and Blaine could not understand why.

Kurt’s first days at Dalton did not turn out as he would have liked. After being introduced to his teachers, a student in his senior year showed the new coming around and explained the rules. That afternoon, Kurt wandered from class to class acclimatizing himself and meeting new people. From a distance Blaine could see Kurt enjoyed meeting new people, but he also noticed the little signs of being uncomfortable. Feeling a little responsible because he brought Dalton to Kurt’s attention, Blaine ensured their paths crossed. Later in the afternoon, on the stairs, Kurt admitted he had trouble adjusting. His only companion at Dalton kindly eased him through the letdown. 

Classed kept Blaine busy, but as the day wore on, he became worried―he had not seen Kurt all-day. With a break before rehearsals started, he searched the school and found himself getting frustrated. Had Kurt taken walked away from Dalton? What if someone had bullied him? During his search of the old school, Blaine found himself emotionally conflicted again.

When he finally spotted the new kid, Blaine froze because Kurt sat alone among the flower beds on a bench. An open book rested on his lap, but he leaned forward with his fists pressed into his chin. The Warbler stood the for a moment, watching as he tried to pull his own thoughts together. The muscles in his chest constricted and images of a bully threatening Kurt’s life flashed in his mind. Catching a hard breath, Blaine tried to clear his mind knowing he could not approach Kurt with scattered thoughts. 

Five deep breaths later, his left foot edged out the door onto the cement pathway and the rest of his body followed. Each step seemed to take forever, but somehow, he found himself standing behind the flowers on the grass. One last inhale and he said in a soft voice, “Kurt.” 

The new kid turned on the bench and glanced back with a weak smile on his face.

Swallowing, Blaine smiled back and asked, “Can I join you?”

“I guess it would be okay.” Kurt’s voice could barely be heard. 

Blaine walked around the flower beds, sitting himself at the end of the bench. Giving the other teen his space, he quietly inquired, “Are you alright, Kurt?”

The other boy closed his book putting it down on his shoulder bag. Drawing up in a deep breath, Kurt pulled one leg up as a turned to face Blaine. His eyes looked red. 

Blaine leaned forward, and a hand fell on Kurt’s arm just above the hand. A finger pressed against the smooth skin, sending shivers up his spine. He minds stumbled on his thoughts and all he managed to say, consisted of two drawn words. “Oh, Kurt.”

Staring at the hand, Kurt whispered, “I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry, this has been hard on you.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“I’m here for you, Kurt.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I would like to think we’re friends.”

“Are we, Kurt?”

“Yes.”

Blaine’s heart jumped. “We’ve been friends since the first day we met, Kurt.”

Frozen on the spot, Kurt’s chin quivered. 

Caught in a moment of utter innocence, Blaine thought the other boy looked totally cute. He watched the way the Kurt’s chest rose and fell as if he stared at a juicy enigma. Suddenly embarrassed, Blaine’s eyes cycled down to the palm of his right hand. In a deep but quiet tone he said, “Kurt, listen to me. In our own ways, we have both been through the ringer. I told you I ran to Dalton. There is some truth in that. Bullying had a lot to do with it, but family issues played a bigger role. It hasn’t been all that fun for me either, but here, at Dalton, I found friends who care. We Warblers look out for one another. They looked out for me.”

“It’s good to have friends.” Kurt muttered.

“You miss yours,” Blaine edged closer along the bench.

Kurt held his breath. His eyes looked suddenly distant. “Glee club saved me. I considered . . . well . . . it is done now.”

“Kurt?”

“Blaine, it’s alright. I’m past that. My sophomore year was utter hell and the councilor called my dad. I saw the fear in his eyes and the pain of not knowing what to do.”

Blaine said nothing even though his heart smashed into his chest. The teen next to him opened up in a way the Warbler had never seen before catching him off guard.

Sucking in air, Kurt added, “He wanted me to join a club. He would have preferred football. I ended up in glee.”

Honest sentiment flooded Blaine and his hand slipped down until it his palm rested on top of the back of Kurt’s hand. In a low, almost sexy voice he said, “And I’m so happy you did.”

Gazing at the hand on his, Kurt smiled. “So am I.”


	7. Friends

Pushing the door open with his back, Kurt grinned. With his head bowed ever so slightly and his eyes rolled up as if he glanced over the rim of invisible glasses. In a low, almost seductive voice he commented, “It would be fun.”

“I’m sure it would be, Kurt,” Blaine responded as he reached out and presses his hand against the door next to Kurt’s shoulder. The door wobbled with the additional force. The two Warblers wore their trade mark school uniforms beneath dark overcoats. As some point Kurt lost the tie and Blaine had pulled his down. 

Innocently smiling, Kurt looked so bashful. “I have this Marc Jacobs outfit I could wear”

“You’d look great in Marc Jacobs,” Blaine still found it hard to believe Kurt’s wardrobe.

“The Sound of Music is a classic.” Kurt blocked Blaine as he leaned against the half open door with his hands behind his back. 

Blaine inwardly sighed, not because of the lovely aroma of coffee filling his lungs, but because of Kurt’s adorable look. Never had a hung out with a friend who made him so happy. After the discomfort of the first couple of weeks at Dalton died away, Kurt blossomed. No longer the timid young man Blaine found interesting, Kurt’s shy confidence grew along with his footprint with the Warblers. Every so often, his façade cracked as his smile brightened the room. Oddly, some of his buddies at Dalton thought Kurt walked around with a cloud hanging over his head? The boy surrounded himself in sunshine and Blaine liked the sunshine. 

As the days wore on, Blaine found himself wanting to be with Kurt more often. Bumping into him in the hall always put a bounce in his step. Spending time with him felt naturally calm, unlike the bubbling sentiments he felt when he watched Jeremiah through the window. Those long locks of wavy hair distracted Blaine every time the twenty something year old brushed them back. Jeremiah and Blaine met totally by happenstance―they literally walked into each other. The young, impressionable, gay teen strolled around the end the fitting room and his hand found itself pressed into a firm pectoral muscle. Startled, Blaine stepped back, dropping the pants and shirts he intended to buy. Jeremiah looked a bit shocked as he bent down to pick up the would-be purchases. Blaine flushed pink when he noticed the most heavily sight in tight jeans. The assistant manager escorted to the cashier, Blaine found himself smitten.

After that Blaine nervously passed the Gap every day in hope of getting a glimpse of the handsome man. Heat rose in his cheeks when he saw Jeremiah walking between the hanging clothing straightening them out or helping a customer. Then one sunny and chilly day, Jeremiah showed up at the Lima Bean while Blaine enjoyed an after-school coffee. Their eyes met, and Jeremiah smile melting Blaine into his chair. A few moments later the two talked, but not long enough for Blaine.

He tried to not to stare in the window whenever he passed with Kurt but made a comment about some article of clothing instead. As he pointed and spoke, hazel eyes scanned the room beyond the glass. When he spotted those long wavy strands of hair and his heart went pitter patter and then he felt ashamed he may reveal his attachment to Kurt. It just did not feel right, especially when he and Jeremiah ran into each other at the Lima Bean that afternoon. During their conversation, Jeremiah eluded to the fact he liked football. Now, Blaine plotted how to get him to go to a game with him. 

As usual, Jeremiah did not see Blaine through the glass causing Blaine’s heart to drop in his chest. With a sigh, Blaine bit his lip and then, Kurt brought up the wild idea they now discussed. He had to admire the boy because he always knew what to say. A lopsided smile pushed up one side of Blaine’s face when he recalled the moment the Sound of Music came up. Kurt’s cheeks flushed pink and Blaine thought of it as a normal reaction when they stepped into a warm building on a cold day. 

Something told Blaine’s distraction bothered Kurt and part of him enjoyed stringing Kurt along. Now he could see the poor boy getting anxious and in a gravelly playful tone, Blaine announced, “You’re letting the heat out, Kurt.”

“Oh?” Giving Blaine a sweet look, Kurt did not move. “Will you?”

Trying not to chuckle, Blaine lowered his head at an angle and bashfully smiled. “Yes, Kurt, I would love to go with you.”

“It’s cold out there.” Kurt whispered in a quiet tone as his hand landed together on his chest and he door hit his butt. A huge smile brightened Kurt’s face as he pushed the door all the way back to let Blaine escape the cold. Bouncing on his toes, he pushed into Blaine’s shoulder as the curly headed lead singer squeezed by.

Warm air rushed Blaine’s face from the front and the chill airbrushed up the back of his neck. The sensation caused goose bumps to dimple his skin. Glancing to his right into Kurt’s bright blue eyes, he asked, “Do you want a hot chocolate or coffee.”

Greedily grinning, Kurt nodded. “Hot chocolate with―”

“Lots of whip.” Blaine returned the grin. 

“Yeah, I could―” Kurt suddenly squealed with delight and bounded away.

Puzzled by his reaction to whipped cream, Blaine stared as Kurt raced toward a table with three people sitting about it. At first no one seemed to notice and then a large African American teenager pushed her chair back to give Kurt a huge hug. A blond kid in a tight fitting sweat shirt with the sexiest lips Blaine has ever seen rose along with a beautiful oriental girl with faint blue streaks in her hair. The joy on Kurt’s face filled the room and Blaine could not help but smile. The four of them patted each other on the backs and exchange more hugs. Drawing in a breath, Blaine recognized the three of them from the New Direction’s website.

Standing between the doors and the coffee bar, Blaine felt envious. Sentiment choked him, and he found himself wondering why? Reflecting on the past few weeks, Blaine felt suddenly puzzled. On those days when he would sleep at Dalton, Blaine found himself lingering at the front doors for Kurt in the morning. On those mornings when he woke blurry eyed in a familiar bed, he would try and find Kurt before the first class. Find Kurt always made him feel better.

Someone tapped Blaine on his shoulder and asked him to step aside so she could push a wheelchair by. Shaking him out of his thoughts, he noticed the blond suddenly turned his way. Hazel met bright green and the word ‘wow’ echoed within his head.

Stepping away from his gaggle of friends, Kurt approached Blaine with a fond smile on his face. Holding out a hand, he said, “Come on, you can meet my friends.”

Those beautiful blue eyes shimmered at Blaine taking him back to a moment on the Dalton stairs. Back them an honest sense of comfort etched its way into his body and felt no different now. Well, except one small thing which only part of his mind recognized―the English countryside. The sight and smell of pristine British vales and dales surrounded by stunning vistas and quaint stone buildings flowed like a gentle brook within the depths of his mind. Slithering around the edges of his thoughts, green hills dotted with cattle and sheep with huge castles in the background felt like home. 

Flashing lashes blocked Blaine’s field of vision as a gaggle of eyes turned toward him. Suddenly, he felt self-conscious of the hand, and he looked down. The correct thing would be to pull his hand free, but then something deep inside said, no.

“Guys,” Kurt called to his friends as he dragged Blaine along with him. “This is Blaine and Blaine, this is Tina, Mercedes and Sam.

Sam instantly offered a hand, “Any friend of Kurt’s is a friend of mine.”

Sam had a firm but soft handshake which made Blaine’s palm tingle. Much different and Jeremiah or Kurt, it felt comfortably awkward. The touch fascinated for a second and then Blaine forced himself to mentally pull back. “Kurt’s told me about you.”

“Really, what did he say,” Tina commented with an edge to her tone and a hardness to her look.

“Tina,” Kurt countered, “Blaine’s one of the good ones.”

“He’s a Warbler!” Tina shot back and then her expression suddenly changed as if she realized she said the wrong thing.

The tone caused Blaine’s ass cheeks to tighten. What did they know of himself? Did Kurt give away Warbler secrets?

“Yes, Tina, he is, and so am I” Kurt pointed out as he run his hands down his lapels. His finger bounced over the butterfly brooch he wore.

The way Kurt enforced his words sent a wave a relief though Blaine. Eyes darting about he noted Mercedes’ look above the rest.

“Tina, reign it in,” the large girl said as he pushed Tina out of the way. Approaching Blaine, she threw her arms about him, drawing him into a hug. Pulling back, Mercedes looked Blaine up and down. “Oh, come off it, dearie, you can do better than that. Hug it out sister.”

Without warning, Mercedes swept Blaine up in another hug and while he found it odd, it felt great. Feeling awkward, Blaine hesitated and then leaned into the hug and lightly returning the gesture. Even though her fingers pressed into his back through his trench coat, it did not alleviate his trepidations. Eyes rolling to Kurt, he weakly smiled over Mercedes’ shoulder. She made a point and Blaine appreciated it.

Suddenly Mercedes stepped back and looked Blaine up and down. With furrowed brows, she commented, “I know you.”

“Oh?” Kurt blurt out before Blaine could speak. 

“Yes.” Mercedes tapped Kurt on the chest. “This fellow and I were here a few months ago and I asked you for some sugar. You were talking to another Warbler.”

Noting the look on Kurt’s face, Blaine realized his friend had no clue. Nothing more than a polite daily event, Blaine vaguely recalled the sugar, but definitely what happened after that. It happened a few days after he came out to the Warblers and that day, he embarrassed himself with an honest comment. Grinning, Blaine winked, “I hope you liked the sugar.”

“I love sugar, darling,” Mercedes commented as she stepped back with a thoughtful gaze. “I saw you singing at the retirement home my grandmother is in. You have a great voice, Blaine.”

“Thank you.” Flushing ever so slightly, Blaine shrugged, “I like to sing.”

“I can see that,” Mercedes pulled a chair over to their table. “Join us.”

“I think I should get a coffee first,” Blaine replied and then he glanced at Kurt. “Still in for hot chocolate with lot of whip.”

“Please.” Kurt replied with a tiny smile.

Sam looked puzzled and then the light bulb went on. “Oh, right . . . cream.”

Swinging around on one heel, Blaine shook his head as he vanished behind a pillar. Behind him chairs scraped on the floor and then he faintly heard Mercedes say, “He’s a dream boat, what gives?”

“He’s a―” Blaine heard Kurt reply before the conversation of the three girls standing in line drowned the voices out. 

The comment and Kurt’s muffled and obviously defensive reply, concerned Blaine. Could he abandon Kurt at this moment? Part of him wanted to, but his great sense of goodness and friendship held his fears at bay. He liked Kurt, a lot, but he had never thought of Kurt in that light and why would he? They are great friends and he had his heart set on Jeremiah. The thought made his stomach flutter and fought to hide his grin. 

After receiving his order, Blaine stepped around the pillar and noticed Tina shake her head. The conversation around the table suddenly changed and Blaine’s eyes automatically went to Kurt. Pink flushed up the teen's neck to his cheeks. 

Handing Kurt his drink, Blaine put his down along with a bag of a half dozen cookies. In that moment he knew how to get Sam’s attention because his eyes brightened. Sitting there with her arms crossed, Tina annoyed. In stark contrast, Mercedes gave the Warbler a wide smile as she indicated the only open seat with a flourish. Oddly, Blaine found it funny because she beat Kurt to it. 

Hanging his coat on top of Kurt’s on a nearby hook, Blaine found himself sitting between Kurt and Sam with his satchel under his chair. Wedged in because of the small table, one knee touched Kurt, which felt comfortable. The other leg pressed against the firm thigh of a boy with stunning good looks and edible lips. He felt nervous enough being surrounded by Kurt’s friend, and Sam proved distracting eye candy. Blaine could smell his bath products, which contrasted greatly with Kurt’s sophisticated European products. The dissimilarity amused him and then his breath stalled―why did think like this?

Before anyone could say a word, Tina gazed at Blaine and pointedly asked, “What are the Warblers singing in their next competition?”

Mercedes swatted Tina’s on the arm shaking her head, giving her a look.

“What?” Tina objected with a surprised look.

Quickly looking to left and the curly headed teen sitting there, Kurt said to his friends,“Right, ground rules. No talking choir smack. I’m a Warbler now and we have our secrets. So, get over it.”

Surprise edged fine lines across Blaine’s brow and his head turned toward Kurt. For some reason Blaine felt proud.

“I bet.” Tina said under her breath. Her eyes dashed between the two young men in school uniforms. 

Stuffing the last bits of a cookie in his mouth, Sam said, “Mercedes is right, you do have a great voice. I went to one of your concerts with Finn to size you guys up.”

“Thanks,” It did not feel right, but it pleased Blaine that the New Directions worried about the Warblers. 

“I guess we can talk about Blaine’s great voice.” Kurt smiled and then drew his straw out of his hot chocolate and licking a huge mound of whipped cream off it.

The stomach did somersaults, and Blaine had to look away. Unfortunately, hazel found green and Sam’s grinning face at an angle. He felt warm, especially when Sam’s thigh pressed into his with greater force. At the same time Kurt’s knee rubbed his creating a strange sensation in his chest. A bead of sweat rolled down his back and he shifted in his chair to get away from Sam forcing him closer to Kurt. He could not win. 

“I was mesmerized when you sang that song to old Mrs. Rogers,” Mercedes commented when she looked away from Sam with a pleasant little smirk on her face. “My grandmother said she, her family never comes to visit anymore. You made her feel very special Blaine. Gran says she talked about it for days.”

Smiling an honest, and deeply charming smiles, Blaine beamed at Mercedes. “I love singing in nursing homes. Not only does it give us a chance to practice before an audience, it does so much for those who live there. You’re right, Mercedes, in that, many of them have lost lives. Family and friends forget about them or they have none. It’s just so sad and I can only hope things are better when I get that age.”

“Maybe we can sing for the old folks,” Sam suggested as he eyed up another cookie.

Tina sighed and rolled her eyes. “Can you imagine the old folks scurrying from the room because Rachel’s squawking is bursting their eardrums.”

“Rachel has a great voice?” Blaine injected before he thought about his words. 

“You’re spying on us?” Tina gave the Warbler soloist a hard look. 

Sitting up straight, Blaine felt not only insulted, but hurt. His heart jumped into his throat because the Warbler’s had never stooped so low. Sam just admitted to spying, though they would have paid for the ticket and Kurt, well, Blaine accepted the real reasons behind Kurt’s initial Dalton adventure. 

“Tina, honestly,” Kurt defended Blaine, “Why don’t you save it for Santana?”

Making a face Tina took a big gulp of her coffee.

“Your last scrap with Santana, will go down in legend,” Sam commented as he snuck a second cookie.

So much for no smack talk left Blaine not knowing what to think. Each singing group had their divas and issues, but he did not want to listen to the dirty laundry being aired. Yes, he knew about Rachel, and who in the show choir community would not. After all, she had a YouTube channel deifying herself. A few of the more unscrupulous Warblers would use this to their advantage, but not Blaine. Out of sight, his right hand unconsciously drifted from his lap to find is brushing against Kurt’s thigh. The pinky of someone’s left hand found his and they interlocked for a brief second before he realized what happened. 

“Okay guys.” One of Kurt’s eyebrow had gone up and his eyes shifted to Blaine.

“Tell me, Blaine,” Mercedes’ eyes went from Kurt to Tina to the curly haired Warbler. “How do you get your hair to look like that. Must take forever to slick down that bird’s nest.”

The change caught Blaine off guard and then he smiled. Feeling relieved his finger skidded along Kurt’s as he reached for the bag of cookies. He offered to the others before taking one himself and then replied, “I must go through a quart of gel a week. I would love to cut it all off, but my mother will not let me.”

“I can’t imagine what you would look like with short hair,” Kurt swallowed the tiny piece of cookie he had been speaking through. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you without his all pounded down like a helmet.”

“It’s not pretty, Kurt,” Blaine replied with an innocent grin.

Kurt rocked his head back and forth with a mischievous glint in his eyes. It did not take a rocket scientist to see it, but Blaine realized it went over the heads of two people at the table. Across from him, Mercedes’ eyebrows went up ever so slightly sending a shiver ran up Blaine’s back. Even though he only met them, perhaps fifteen minutes ago, he already figured out the cute blond might not be the brightest bulb in the lamp and he more than admired Mercedes. Tina came across as a firecracker, but Blaine recognized she hid her insecurities behind an abrasive front. Mercedes? She sat facing Sam, who gave Tina a strange look, but her eyes studying the Dalton boys. What did she see? He and Kurt are just friends, but then the conversation he walked away to get libations started with a pointed remark. From where he stood, he could see the three of them leaning in toward Kurt, who looked a bit out of sorts. He could just imagine what they said. When he returned, he felt bad when he saw the tension wash away from those soft blue eyes when their eyes locked. 

Understanding what Kurt must have endured came easy for Blaine. His brother grilled him every chance he got. Cooper learned early not to make comments like that over the phone because his little brother simply hung up. When he visited, and thankfully not too often, he would relentlessly make Blaine uncomfortable. Once in a while, his good side would come out, but, in general, he remained his regrettably selfish and condescending brother. 

The seconds of awkward silence faded when Sam put his coffee down and asked, “Do you play video games, Blaine.”

Thankful that a possibly awkward moment had been swept away, Blaine replied, “I’ve been working through Mass Effect and the Star Wars the Old Republic.”

“Cool, we’ll have to play sometime.” Sam placed a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “We can get together with Finn and maybe Kurt will play.”

“I don’t do video games,” Kurt injected with a sharp tone as he gave Sam a stern, on eyebrow raised, look.

Glancing to his left, Blaine could imagine himself and Sam sitting next to each beating their controllers. Shaking his head, he wondered if Jeremiah wanted to play video games.

“Your lose, bro.” Sam peered past Blaine to Kurt.

“I think Kurt would rather watch Project Runway?” Blaine commented as he broke off a piece of cookie.

Sam commented. “Finn is much more fun.”

Kurt stuck his tongue out.

“Are you into fashion, Blaine?” Mercedes asked.

Mercedes knew when to change the subject and that ticked another box in the back of Blaine head. Nodding, he answered, “I shop at the Gap and Macy’s and I read GQ every month. One has to keep up.”

“Yup, he’s gay.” Tina broke her self-imposed silence.

Kurt challenged. “Is there anything wrong with that?” 

This time Blaine’s hand fell on Kurt’s arm. “It’s okay, Kurt, I am proud to be out and comfortable with myself unlike some people.”

“Oh, snap!” Sam’s face lit up as he stared at Tina.

“Shut up Sam!” Tina snarled.

Realizing his mistake of not filtering his words, Blaine glanced across the table. “Sorry Tina, I didn’t mean you. It’s just that I’ve had issues in the past that prove not everyone is happy with who and what I am. I can’t speak for Kurt, but from what he has told me, he can relate.”

Nodding, Kurt said nothing.

Bending his head toward Kurt, Blaine went on, “There are times―”

“Blaine, you don’t need to justify it to us. We all saw what Kurt went through with Karofsky.” Mercedes cut the Warbler off and then she smiled at the gorgeous blond. “Sam here got a black eye when he and others tried to get the big ape to back off.”

“It was massive.” Sam beamed. “You should have seen it, Blaine, the look on Karofsky’s face when I punched him, I don’t think any has stood up to him before.”

“You were brave, Sam, as were Mike and Artie.” Tina pulled her lips in and then sighed. “The whole thing made me think. I’ve been picked on most of my life because I’m that Japanese bitch.”

“But you’re Korean,” Sam piped in.

“My point exactly.” Tina sighed again. “What you did Sam, I was so proud of you Sam. It took guts.”

The blond beamed as his right fist curled up and gestured as if he said a big internal, yes!

Emotion flickered in Tina’s eyes, making Blaine cautious. In a soft, caring tone, he stated, “Tina, we all have had our troubles getting to this point in our lives. I know Kurt misses all of you and why shouldn’t he? I look around this table and I see a group of friends who care about each other very much. He’s, you are, lucky to have such friendships.”

“Ah, you say the nicest things, Blaine.” Mercedes winked the he Warbler. “Kurt, can we keep him?”

Giving Blaine a quizzical look, Kurt said in a dead panned tone, “It think he’s house trained.”

Picking up his school satchel. Blaine dropped it on his lap and dug into it. “Now, where is that newspaper.”

Everyone laughed, not because of the comment, but because of the puppy eyed look on Blaine’s face.


	8. Those Eyes

Devastation. Humiliation. The mind wrapped it up all in a tight little bow ready for delivery to a gullible heart. Then the guillotine fell opening a pit and swirling blackness engulfed a young man. Calling out, the only thing that answered came in the form of demoralizing silence. The tumbling stretched into eternity and then Blaine sensed something. Hands grasped him―the Warblers, his mom, Kurt, those people he knew from McKinley, friends from his other schools. They all tried, but none could reach as they fumbled in the dark. Behind them a dim radiance moved from right to left and then Jeremiah stood there and then he pushed. Blaine felt himself falling into a pool of stupidity.

One beer felt nice and two kept him that way, but four got him going and five, well that pushed over the edge. Losing control of his normally controlled self, he let it all hang out. At some point the room started to spin and he could not be certain what happened after that. Hopelessness filled the darkness as he tumbled into agonizing fear. Did love really exist? What an asinine question? Of course, it did. Blaine loved his mother, friends and even Kurt in that brotherly way. It played all around him and still, who knew what true love felt like? When he felt his worst, something grasped him. The abyss vanished as trees grew up all around him. A hand touched his causing his heart quivered with such great emotion, it could have exploded. Spinning around, he stared into bright blue eyes.

Eyelids fluttered as Blaine gazed at a pair of black shoes―thank the gods for Kurt. Yes, he had that smug, I told you so, look on his face. Blaine should have accepted those subtle little hints. Why, could not he be a little less subtle? The boy’s introverted natures irritated, even charmed and, then, like a flash of bright light in a dark room, the elusiveness vanished. Lined up at the Lima Bean he dropped the proverbial bombshell and Blaine stumbled. Until that moment he had not even thought of Kurt boyfriend material. Yet, Blaine admitted he liked Kurt very, very much, but at that moment Blaine’s heart rolled down into the pit of his stomach. He had been such a fool, and it took considerable effort to maintain the proper level of decorum.

Blaine scarcely recognized things as the barista passed two steaming cups of coffee to Kurt. Somewhere, perhaps when the cups exchanged hands, flesh touched flesh. Nearly a century later old Blaine grinned because at this point in time he felt the same overwhelming sensation. In his youth, it crashed into him like a brick in the face. Lust or love. Jeremiah, lust? Kurt, Love? Love! No . . . love? It could not be . . . love? Impossible? It only happened in movies and for old people in their twenties. A teenager, love? Primal urges, gods, yes. The dream of experiencing those primal urges while carding voluminous blond curls represented went up in a puff of lust.

Tingling shot all the way to Blaine’s crotch. Gods, not now! Then it settled as if a warm blanket had been thrown over him. It took only a simple touch to overwhelm Blaine causing the Warbler missed a step as he turned from the counter. A hint of something flickered in Kurt’s eyes hitting Blaine in a manner he had never sensed before. Digging into his soul, the heart skipped not once, but three beats. For a second, the young man felt he would die, and whirling darkness returned and then a silver bell smashed the crushing silence. A hand slipped into a hand, right to left. Two men walked up a grassy hill dotted with large trees for a muddy road sandwiched between low stone walls. The vista before them ranged out onto the violent ocean. A gently rolling slope ended in a stark yellow cliff and then the turbulent sea. A man-of-war fought against a stiff wind as it rounded the point headed for Plymouth harbor. Britain ruled the waves and love ruled the heart. Silent emotions spoke in their hearts making words unimportant.

Two would-be-lovers turned to each other and their eyes met. Blaine blinked, barely saw the sugar fall into the cup. Absently stirring, he glanced up at Kurt beside him. The new Warbler spoke, but Blaine scarcely perceived. The beating of his heart, two hearts, captured him. The two boys stood two feet apart, but it felt as if naked, masculine chests rested against each other. The breeze outside found its way through the cracks of the window edges causing the candles to flicker. Across the room the flashing of a roaring fire cast shadows over the couch the two, half-dressed men lay upon. The long, early eighteen twenties, coat one of once wore hung off the edge of a table. 

A shiver ran up his back, leaving Blaine feeling awed. Closing his eyes in hope he might hang on to the vision, it vanished the moment they opened. Blue eyes gazed into hazel revealing timeless love twirled with the shimmering orbs. The mind considered it impossible, but the heart did not understand the term―impossible. 

“Blaine?” Kurt’s softly questioned giving the curled headed Warbler a concerned look.

Something inside tore as if a page pulled away from an old book causing the modern world crashed in upon the Warbler. Somehow, he knew part of that page twisted on the fringe of his mind. Seen within soft blue eyes, Blaine felt faint and his eyes fluttered.

‘I think you need to sit.” Kurt tenderly suggested.

A firm hand fell on Blaine’s bicep and the touch felt surreally ethereal. For second, he smelt brim, and a salty wind pressed against Blaine’s nose. A man wearing a high collared shirt, jacket and short top hat sat to one side of his head stared at him. The man smiled, leaned in and wet flesh met wet fresh as unshaved faces met in a moment of taboo. What he saw made Blaine stumble. The two men touched each other with their hands and lips in a manner he saw in porn movies. 

The fingers pressing through his coat sent a shiver up and down Blaine’s back. His eyes found Kurt’s impish grin and it seemed time stood still. A foot hit the ground and somewhere in his mind, a delicious groan echoed. The mind grasped at many things, leaving Blaine wondering why? 

Kurt pulled him to a corner table. He said, “Ok, lover boy, sit.”

Placing his butt in the chair, Blaine winced and looked up. Simultaneously, he pulled away from an illicit moment in time when prison or worse would result. Kurt’s smile appeared perfect to him even though some aspect of looked at a lovely man in his thirties. Blaine in the present, teenage Blaine and this specter stared at the same eyes―one set lay closed, one hinted of amusement while the last simply adored. 

Shaking his head, Blaine drew in a deep and the salty sea transformed into the aroma of coffee. Letting out a long breath, he looked at Kurt and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Kurt responded with roguish innocence. 

“I dragged you into that.” The mangled of thoughts faded with each breath leaving Blaine feeling grounded.

“Blaine, you helped me through all the stuff with Karorsky. At least I could stand with you at your moment of―”

Blaine cut Kurt off. “Humiliation.”

“Awkwardness don’t sound as harsh.” An impish grin pulled his lips wide as Kurt shifted in his chair.

“Yeah, right.” Blaine sucked on his coffee and then slowly shook his head. His eyes, however, remained locked on the young face across from him. “Sometimes, I wish I was older with all this discovery shit behind me.”

“Come on, Blaine, you had a letdown. We all have. Mercedes chased me for months.”

“Oh?”

“It was kind of cute until she threw a brick through the window of my dad’s truck.”

“Really?”

“I told her I was in a relationship with Rachel.” 

Blaine almost spewed his coffee all over the table, followed by a hand snatching up a napkin. Holding it over his mouth, he choked and breath heavily.

Pulling himself to the right just in case and when Blaine recovered, he added, ““She got pissed and threw a rock through the windshield of my dad’s truck. Kurt It was the only way I could get her off my back. If felt awful and to tell her the truth I told her I was gay. She told me I did not have to be ashamed and everyone in Glee would accept. I was not convinced of that.”

“Wow.” Blaine’s eyes went wide as he wiped his nose and coughed again. 

Kurt looked down. “It was so embarrassing.”

Leaning toward Blaine wanted to reach out to the boy and then hesitated. Grinning, Blaine sighed, and held up his coffee as if offering it to Kurt. “To embarrassment.”

“To embarrassment.” Kurt touched his cup with his with an odd look on his face. 

Blaine’s suddenly burst into laughter followed by a cough and a need to wipe his mouth again. 

Kurt pulled back. “You alright?”

The colour returned to Blaine’s face and feeling more at ease, he balled the napkin up. Rolled his eyes toward the counter, he softly commented, “Those puppies are cute.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Kurt suddenly stood. Without looking back, he trotted over to the counter and spoke to the attendant. A moment later, Blaine stared in horror when Kurt artfully strolled back, holding a big, bulky, white bag with Lima Bean splashed across. Coming to a halt in front of the mortified Warbler, he held his arms out straight offering the package to his fellow Warbler with bright eyes.

“Kurt?” Blaine’s face hardened though he had trouble maintaining the look. The poor boy looked so charming with his pouty lips and big blue eyes. 

Kurt stood there, proudly holding it out. “Just take it.”

Reaching out, Blaine took the puffed-out bag. His brow crinkled. Light? 

“Open it.” Kurt sat with an impish grin stretching his lips. Picking up his coffee, he sipped it while watching Blaine over the rim. 

Dark brows pushed together as Blaine stared at the bag. Without moving his head, he looked at Kurt, who sat there watching with an adorable look on his face. Suddenly he shrugged and then nodded toward the package. 

Something inside the bag crinkled causing Blaine to hesitate. The head ducked own as he gazed at Kurt on an angle and then he blinked. The darkness held for a split second and an image of those two men flashed on the inside his eyelid. Clarity lasted only a short while, revealing them leaning against the settee wrapped together in a thick blanket with their feet thrust out toward the fire. The taller of the two men read aloud from the book he held, with his arm draped over the other. The smell of brandy on the breath caressed the curly headed man’s nose. He loved it and the manner they had shared the warming drink. The servants, but a few, went to bed hours ago and he had slipped into the guest guestroom through the hidden passage. 

The crinkling of the something inside the bag sounded like the wood burning down. Eyelids fluttered as the last vestige of an oddly realistic and moving vision faded. Subtle heat spread through Blaine’s chest and then his lips spread wide.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s soft tone had a seductive edge to it.

Stumbling on his thoughts, he pulled the top of the bag open. Mounds of rumbled white paper assaulted him. His month dropped and then he dug all the way to the bottom―no stuffed dogs. Then, his fingers struck something wrapped in plastic. What? Gasping, he pulled up a large, heart shaped cookie.

“Not as hideous as affectionate puppies.” Kurt shyly smiled.

Blaine felt his right-hand pulse and old Blaine squeezed lifeless fingers. Smothered in candlelight, a man in his thirties kissed the hand of another man in his thirties. A shiver ran up an old man’s spine as he recalled the childhood vision, knowing know it spoke a truth he did not know at that youthful moment. The flashing images of these two men became less of a force in his life when he stood in a barn speaking words of love. In his thirties, he used these images as the basis for a musical he and Kurt won Tony awards for. Later, it was adopted for as a mini-series popular on the various channels catering to the gay community. 

Back then, he recalled the butterflies as he stared at the cookie. Teenage Blaine held his breath for a moment and then a beaming smile pulled his lips apart. Water welled in his eyes because he could not believe cookie hold such sentiment. In a low, voice laces with emotion, Blaine said, “Kurt, this is perfect.”

Time passed and neither boy admitted they slipped silently into something deeper than friendship. They ate their lunches in the garden and met for coffee after school. One or the other would wait for the other to catch up. Duets between the two grew numerous. Blaine felt embarrassed the first time a group of the Warblers snuck into the room to listen. 

Then, heavenly drunken disaster until a drunken kiss. Wow, what a kiss. Blaine had kissed no one like that before―full and probing tongue. My, Rachel knew how to work it. The aftermath turned into a debacle with Kurt got upset and Blaine got defensive. Rachel got predatory and stalked the curly headed Warbler with texts and calls. 

Once out in the cool air, Blaine stopped. Kurt, how dare he say such things to him? The boy knew what he wanted and now this? He thought the two understood one another. Images of sappy stuffed puppies on shelves pressed his thoughts―had he fooled himself, again? His heart suddenly froze when he realized his condescending father would shoot through the roof―his gay son kissed a girl and liked it. They already had words about the time he spent growing friendship with his fellow Warbler. Blaine’s frowned, and his head fell to his chest. 

Nervous, Blaine talked himself out of canceling the date. Maybe bisexual fit better than gay? Rachel had a refreshing, quirky edge to her he found exciting and could she sing. Dressed to match, they sang along with the play. She overpowered him, and Blaine pushed to match as they got competitive. Nothing like the happy-go-luck duets with Kurt, Rachel proved aggressive in her need to be number one. When Blaine reached for a specific note, not only would she outdoor him, but would do so with a look of triumph. 

Then, a love song and Rachel turned to him and Blaine knew what she wanted? Fear touched him as he looked at those lips as she leaned into him. Could he repeat it? Youthful, yearning months reached for each other and then an earthquake erupted within Blaine’s chest. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the actors on the stage subtly morph. Two men wearing stiff, early eighteen hundred’s formal wear stood before a roaring fireplace holding hands. Soft, tender, deep voices harmonized perfectly. His mind went instantaneously back to a bag and the warm vision he witnessed. 

Suddenly, the popcorn container came up between himself and Rachel. Batting eyes pulled back as Blaine’s fingers dug into the slick container. In a blink, he noticed the hope wash from Rachel’s eyes only to be replaced with stubborn determination. Blaine’s chest hurt. That night he could not sleep. Rachel kept texting him and Kurt remained suspiciously silent. The lack of a single smiley face struck him right in the ribs. What a mess.

The back door opened to find his father sitting at the kitchen table with a magazine. Blaine stalled and then he slid his coat off and hung it up. His father watched him, causing the temperature to rise in Blaine’s throat. Daniel must have noticed because he periodical drooped and his eyes rolled toward his son. Drawing a deep breath, the boy padded past his father without saying a word and vanished up the stairs. Blaine felt gloating eyes follow him.

Closing the door aa he passed through, Blaine leaned against the solid wood behind him. Hands pressing down his face, he smelt Rachel’s perfume in his hair. Had his father smelt it too? If his discussion with Kurt confused him, he felt upside down right now. Pushing off the door, he shook his head and went about his business before bed. From the bathroom, he could hear his father happily announcing his suspicions to his increasingly estranged wife. Pam did not sound all that thrilled by the gnarled response Blaine heard through the wall. Looking at his face in the mirror, Blaine felt mortified. 

A new day and a new beginning. He saw Kurt and, yes, the meeting was a bit tense, but it went well. Everything went well that day until, lips pressed against his and his tongue pushed out. Blaine kept his mouth as tightly as he could. The ambush had probably been Rachel’s idea, but seeing Kurt sent Blaine’s head spinning. Surprised, the actor within took over. Stiffly, Blaine made his platitudes to Rachel and then escaped.

Locking the stall door behind him, Blaine’s shoulder back hit the floor with a thump. Hands coming up to his face, he drew his fingers slowly down. Digits hovered at his chin and then he felt a tear swell in the corner of his eye. What had he done? Did cheating, feel like this? He felt awful as his heart sank. Images of flames of a fire reflected off a sugar cookie danced in his head. Somewhere a man with hazel eyes sat in a closed carriage listlessly staring out at the fields with teary eyes. His new bride rested her head upon his shoulder quietly breathing. The coach ride from Plymouth to Kent would take days and he dreaded every moment of it. Duty, family honour and fortune tore him away from his one true love. Would they meet again?

Old and young, Blaine felt a streak of pain crush his chest for the same reason. For an old man it overshadowed an ailing heart, and, for his boyish shelf, it represented a deep sense of remorse. He liked Rachel and Jeremiah, but not in that way and, in return his head drooped. The gentle rap on the door broke Blaine’s concentration. Pulling at the roll of toilet paper he wiped the tears from his eyes and tossed it away. Flushing, he paused and drew in a deep breath collecting his shattered thought. Hesitantly, he opened the door to find Kurt leaned against the counter gazing at him. Their eyes met and for a second, Blaine, though he saw flame mirrored in those blue orbs.


	9. Flustered

Old Blaine smiled as he gazed at his beloved’s face and sighed. Love filled his ailing heart easing the discomfort he felt as memories came and fluttered away. The long days at Dalton meshed into one another merging emotion and day-to-day fun. Two boys found moments together and old Blaine recalled the conflicts he felt. Something told him it would come, but the question remained unsolved. While the real conversation would come later, there queries in front of him representing the warm up. It all started with boyish Kurt unceremoniously blurted out his feelings about the curly headed Warbler’s frequent and beautiful solos. Aged Blaine recalled how his younger self flushed with anger quickly followed by deep-rooted shame. Yes, he had a beautiful voice and talent glamour. Ego, nah? Blaine did not suffer from that? Or did he? Could Kurt be right? 

The day carried on within a daze as he moved from class to class. The—ego—word did not settle well, and Blaine did not know why. Long moments of of thought brought up a puppy. His father did not think his young son could handle taking care of a dog, while his mother encouraged it. When the hammer struck, it hurt the eight-year-old even though his mother had ways of making him feel better. A special little trip made him feel better, but his father’s response foretold the future. 

The thought of what his mother did would have made him laugh if not for the odd sensation gripping his chest. He felt uncomfortable and did not want to face people even though circumstance conspired against him. The Warblers gathered about to talk and somewhere in the mix hovered Kurt. Later, Blaine spotted the teen slipping out through a side door. The sight pulled at the heart, making him feel low. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes considering the truth of what Kurt had thrown in his face. Having a dog and then having a dream taken away. Being the top dog and having the dream dashed by a pointed reply. Ouch, that hurt.

After sorting his thoughts, Blaine felt giddy with the thought of seeing Kurt at lunch. The sun shined outside so they normally meet in the garden. Well, it turned into a disaster when Kurt did not show. The heart plummeted into his stomach as worry took him. Why did he feel like this? Did his response piss Kurt off? Suddenly his face dropped, and he remembered, the charming teen had a lunch date with his stepbrother and Rachel. Damn, he felt so stupid.

Strolling the rose garden stewing in a pot of competing emotions, Blaine felt as if he slowly flew apart. Picking at the bagel he carried, his mind wandered all over the place. For god’s sake he had a test this afternoon and the knowledge in his cluttered brain faded. The discomfort he felt screamed at him to fix what he perceived to be broken but hit scared him to death. Jeremiah never made him feel this way, so why now? Why did Kurt affect him in his like this? Then he found his dreams haunted by formal parlor or riding horses through lush fields. He felt bewitched and had to do something to pull himself together.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a door open and his enthusiasm swelled and followed by a deep plummet― he saw Trent and Conner. Hazel eyes caught sight of them, a word he would not repeat in public crushed his hopes. The day could not get worse and he wanted to hide. The chubby Warbler would never harm a soul and Blaine found his humour uplifting. Conner, well, he had his moments and a mouth. He liked gossip and Blaine did not think he could handle it just now. 

The two Warblers appeared to be having a deep conversation as they stepped onto the garden path. Trent shook his head and Connor waved his hands about as if he said something important. For a second Blaine thought and hoped, they would not see him, but fate had something else in mind. The look on Trent’s face changed the moment he saw Blaine passing along the opposite wall. 

Connor’s face hardened for a second and then he quickly said something to Trent before pushing him. The large set Warbler stumbled and caught himself before he nervousness called out, “Blaine, do you have second?”

Blaine caught his breath and restrained the desire for fun. Smiling, he looked at his watch. “I’ve got a couple.”

“That’s all we need,” Conner commented with a mischievous sparkled in his eye.

Crossing his arms, Blaine knew what Connor wanted. Cutting to the chase, he announced, “You think Kurt’s right.”

The two other Warblers exchanged glances and then they said, together, “Yes.”

“Then bring it up in council,” Blaine bluntly suggested while trying not to sound terse or roll his eyes. The fact his friends grilled him irritated an already depressed young man.

Trent hesitated and glanced at Connor before sucking at his upper lip. “Come off it, Blaine? They won’t listen.” 

“The two of you sound great together,” Conner, a dark-haired junior Warbler, suddenly announced. 

Trent checks turned red and his eyes darted to Conner as if they had crossed an innocent line. 

“Thanks, guys.” Blaine looked at his watch again. “I really have to go.”

Stepping around his fellow Warblers, Blaine held his head high until he turned the next corner. All of sudden his feet unconsciously carry himself faster and his head drooped. Controlled thoughts scattered and once again with the realization introverted Kurt nailed him to the cross. Yes, the Warbler’s rules frustrated the dear boy and Blaine tried his best to support him. Lately, Blaine found himself worrying because he could sense Kurt’s jovial nature wane. Those innocent and graceful words etched marks into Blaine’s heart because the truth they held. Yes, Blaine had an ego. Did he like having an ego? No. Blaine loved being the lead, but then he did not like the way he felt right now. If it had come from anyone else, Blaine would not have felt so upset. 

Blaine more than liked the import from another school and the fact that Kurt could so easily entrap him bothered Blaine. Kurt’s shy, awkwardness went beyond amusing into the realm of cute and adorable. Ever since the Gap fiasco, Blaine found himself increasing muddled and unable to find bring his thought together. That day went beyond weird and then came Rachel’s kiss. Since then he thought the intervening weeks would have tempered things, but the more he spoke with Kurt, emotions twisted into him like a knife. It hurt when they separated and made him happy when they got together. He could not be sure when that odd image of Jeremiah at the top of a long black tube haunted him. Blaine wished he knew what it meant.

Worse, he had a family dinner tonight and his dad, while not openly stating it, made small remarks about smelling frilly perfume. Worse, his arrogantly condescending brother found the time to visit. As if a dream came true, Daniel talked his wife into burying the hatchet just for a few days. Daniel fawned over Cooper, the successful straight son. Cooper did everything right, from his star-studded career to the beautiful women he had on his arm. Blaine dreaded what would come the next few days.

At some point in his math class, his mind filled with fuzz and he had to do something. Connor caught him in the washroom and told him he saw Kurt in the hall, talking to some tall, handsome fellow in normal clothes. For some reason a wave of relief washed through Blaine and he smiled. His fellow Warbler pressed for information and Blaine just walked with a bounce in his step. It bothered him, he would be happy to hear Kurt showed Dalton off to Finn, but then it brightened his day. Turning the corner, he took out his phone and typed short text. Seconds later he received a cute little reply which greatly lifted his moral. He needed the shot of courage.

As the evening wore on Blaine hoped a text from Kurt would distract him. The first arrived just before they sat down for dinner and Daniel frowned. Irritated, but wanting to keep the peace, Blaine turned the phone off after sending a quick smile. The younger son barely said a word as Daniel hovered on Cooper’s every sentence with bated breath. Encouraging his older brother did not help matters and after dinner Blaine found solace helping his mother clean up. Out on the porch with his father and his oldest son bonded and laughed as Cooper had spent the entire evening talking about himself. He had just been offered a national commercial. Dad slapped him on the back even as he sneered at number two son.

Feeling forgotten, Blaine wiped the suds off his hands and turned his phone on. Three messages from Kurt became the break he wanted. With a sigh, he turned to see if his mother needed his help with the laundry the sorted.

Around ten, a sullen Blaine strolled into his bedroom after his pre-bedtime personal duties. His skin glistened with freshly applied condition and while his regiment did not match Kurt, it made him feel good. Looking around, he felt oddly at ease as he stripped off his shirt and undershirt. Looking down at the phone lying on the bed, he grinned and then picked up. Signing he felt the urge to send Kurt on last message before lights out. Suddenly, Cooper burst into his room and threw himself on the bed. Smelling of beer, he gazed at his little brother, and then, without warning, he snatched the phone from Blaine’s hands.

“Hey!” Blaine grabbed for his phone, but the older, more agile brother rolled off the queen-sized mattress. 

“What do we have here?” Cooper stepped toward the closet with a stupid smile on his face 

Angry, Blaine threw himself over the bed, but his shorter stature could not keep up. 

“Kurt, Kurt and Kurt,” Cooper read the list of names. “Rachel?”

“Cooper!” Blaine complained. His chest pressed into his brother’s back as he tried to reach around to grab the phone. Heat rose in his neck and cheeks with his brother staring at his most private secrets. 

Twisting to keep his brother at bay, Cooper read the messages. The smirk vanished as the taller Anderson, son stopped struggling. Suddenly Blaine tugged the device from his brother’s hands and stepped back into the bed. Steadying himself with his free hand to prevent himself from tripping, he spun toward the end of his bed. 

His older brother straightened up and slowly turned and his face went serious. Cooper stared at his brother who clutched the phone against his chest. The knot in Blaine’s stomach turned and for a moment thought he would throw up. The colour drained from his face and then he growled, “Fuck! Cooper!” 

“No, no, little brother.” Cooper stepped forward, holding both hands up.

Backing away, Blaine stared at his brother with wide, wild eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, Blaine looked up at his brother and demanded, “Why you go please yourself getting drunk with dad. Nothing would please him more.”

Holding his hand up in front of himself, Cooper looked troubled. With one step a hand fell on Blaine’s shoulder, “Woo, calm down, little bro. It’s alright.”

Blaine tried to pull away and then stopped. Looking up at his brother, water welled up in his eyes. Logic wailed against the break down while the heart relished the release.

Standing there facing his brother, Cooper uncharacteristically hauled his brother into a compassionate hug. In a soft tone he asked, “Kurt? Is he your boyfriend?”

Boyfriend? The word echoed inside Blaine’s head like it bounced about and empty can. He once said he did not want to screw things up, but boyfriend? My, god, boyfriend? Blaine’s heart crushed up against his ribs as beads of sweat rolled down his back. 

“Blaine?” Cooper sounded concerned.

“No!” Tucking his head down, he single word echoed in his mind, even though sentiment screamed something else. 

“Blaine, I’ve known for long before dad made that stupid international broadcast. So, my little brother is gay. Big deal. There’s lots of gay people in TV.” 

Blaine remained still finding it hard to believe his brother would show him genuine kindness. In a flash the years of being his older brother’s punching bag flushed away. The arms wrapped around him felt good because he felt no one could possibly understand what he went through. Men and women, boys and girls, anyone could talk about the confusing emotions conjured up. Every television show or romance novel made the options limitless. Boy on boy or girl on girl, in Lima? No? ‘Gay people in TV’ resonated through Blaine’s mind telling him he might have found someone how might really understand. 

As if the spirits conspired, Blaine’s hopes disintegrated when Daniel abruptly flung the door open. He glared at Blaine and then smiled at Cooper. “Come son, let’s hit the pool hall.”

The next morning, Blaine’s mood hovered somewhere between sour and foul. He hated watching his dad and Cooper being so chummy regardless of the brief moment of brotherly bonding. Cooper gave no thought as to running away with his dad and it hurt. 

School did not help as the day became strangely surreal when Kurt arrived late for the Warbler meeting. Dressed all in black and everyone took note. While, at times, Blaine found it Kurt’s moods aggravating, he liked the fact Kurt did not hide his emotions. Dalton’s reputation worked like a two-edged sword where one side existed of fun and the other tradition. Kurt’s individualism threatened some of it as he walked through the halls like a fresh wind. The broaches he wore affected everyone and Blaine doubted the charming youth even realized it. 

What happened next pulled Blaine completely off course because his friend’s face spoke of abject pain. The manner in which he sung wrenched the heart Kurt poured his heart out over a canary. It took him by surprise and then Blaine saw something very much deeper―Kurt sobbed for his mother. The thought struck Blaine to the core, leaving him numb because he could not imagine losing a parent so young. With tears streaming down Kurt’s face, Blaine found himself lost for words. Instead, Blaine’s mind went to those two men he saw in those odd, fleeting flashes. The scene seemed so real, important and complete melting all resistance as a sense of wonder captured his heart. 

Thoughts mangled together with Cooper’s simple comment weighted on Blaine, but Kurt’s singing finally tipped the scales. Mesmerized by his voice, Blaine’s thoughts collected around how to approach his mounting frustrations. Thinking about it only turned Blaine stomach upside down. Did he make some big, fancy deal of it with roses and dinner? Oh gods, no, it would probably scare both of them. A card? Too simple. Should he sing it? Sentiment hit the floor. The last time he did that ended up as a distressing humiliation. 

The more he considered a bold move, the harder it got. Blaine saw himself unraveling at the knee every time he caught a glimpse of Kurt. Once he felt his legs give away as his mind went black and after that he purposely began to avoid him. Long, sleepless hours intermixed within a twisting menagerie of haunting images from a different era, convinced him of a bizarre truth. The realization floored him, and oddly, after only two hours sleep, Blaine rose amazingly refreshed. 

The next morning the pounding in his chest got worse as he approached Dalton. The day rushed away from Blaine and then David and Wes confronted him after the morning practice. Blaine avoided the issue but got his answer when he shattered Warbler history. The meeting dragged on as they argued over what song Blaine should lead with. The looks in Trent’s eyes pleaded, and Conner looked self-assured while Kurt looked positively distraught. The look both killed Blaine and gave him confidence. Then someone said something about Blaine choosing for himself and emotion grasped him. Pulling himself up straight he glanced about the room and made a stunning announcement. Fear rushed his chest as Warbler mouths opened and the objection erupted. Bringing up Pavarotti’s became the passionate hammer ended all debate and the council caved in. Kurt’s honest and innocent comment about auditioning sealed the deal, leaving Blaine overjoyed.

Even though all hands went up Blaine noted the ‘what the fucks’. Even as Trent slapped the amazed Kurt on the back and with Blaine grinned like a Cheshire cat, fear touched him. The actor took him as he bumbled through the meeting by the seat of his pants. In the end, the lump in his stomach only got bigger leaving him nervous. Several discussions broke out as his fellow Warblers talked about what just happened as they congratulated the soloists. Hazel eyes caught blue as Kurt chatted with Wes and Trent. Blaine had to smile even as the scary part hit him in the face―next steps.

The best laid plans always fall to shit and with Regionals looming just over the horizon, Blaine’s mind became stuck in the clouds. Fully consumed with how to approach the issue of Kurt. Lost in a haze, he happened to glance into the library and paused in mid stride. Kurt sat with a table covered in stuff with a glue bottle in his hand. What? Innocently Blaine walked it and as soon as he opened his mouth, the shadows of doom crossed over him. All logic swirled away as pure emotion flushed carefully practiced words down the proverbial toilet. 

Wow, that kiss. It bowled Blaine over sending his nerves firing from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. The heart swelled beyond proportion and everything fell into place. Pure and unfettered love etched itself into every cell of his body with no fireworks or a brass band. His head swirled and then time seemed to stand still. Emotions reached out, to god knows where. Like the echo of a sonar, the answer returned more than once. 

Pressing is tongue into Kurt’s willing mouth, his hand touched perfection. Then flawlessness fingers racked down his cheek to his throat and the other man’s face pressed into his even harder. Breathing became difficult, but Blaine did not care. Then, as if Kurt knew, his lips pulled apart ever so briefly allowing both to catch a quick breath before they smashed together once more. 

His mind blown, eventually Blaine breathlessly pulled away. Hazel eyes stared into blue and his heart thumped in his chest. For a brief second blazing white light surrounded the stunning young man across from him. Pasted to the chair, he could not move. Why should he? He stared into the most heavenly eyes, stretching back into time. Somewhere within the miasma of his mind, he saw two men in their thirties standing on a grassy hill holding hands.

A palm of a hand hitting the tabletop jolted him and fondly smiling, Blaine sat back. A hand came up to his face and he glanced down at the table. Hesitation gripped and then, in a low, hushed voice, he said, “We should practice.”

“I thought we were,” Kurt nervously replied.

Without thinking smooth, moist skin pressed into each other and the motion of their passion pulled the two of them to their feet. Bodies crushed against one another and arms wrapped trembling human forms. Slowly turning, they bumped into the table and lost any sense of time. They danced together within their own little world until someone cleared their throat. Startled, the two boys literally pushed themselves apart. Fumbling, they spun around to see a leggy teacher standing in the door with a mildly amused look. Faces flushed redder when they realized the extent to which groaning tents stretched their trousers.


	10. Their Rock

The wind blowing off the river felt chilled while the sun held a comfortable warmth, allowing people to walk about without a coat. Thick clouds floated high on the horizon signaled a change in the weather and two teenagers did not care. Walking hand in hand along the edge of the sparkling water the luster of newly found love radiated from their souls. The shorter of the two teens pressed his arm playfully against his partner. Fondly smiling, he pulled on the hand in his and started to run. The other held back as their arms stretched and then he ran along laughing. 

Ripping his hand away, Kurt sprinted ahead toward three large rocks where the beach narrowed against a short cliff into the river. Spinning around at the choke, point he held his arms out wide and spread his legs as if blocking the way. Running up behind him, Blaine beamed as his arms went wide. Slowing just before he could have knocked Kurt into the river, he stopped a few inches from Kurt and Blaine outstretched hands met. Hazel and blue met, and his breath caught in his throat as the side of his face pressed up into a one-sided smirk, Blaine knew would drive Kurt wild. 

The sparkle in the ocean of blue Blaine stared into his and the iris grew wide. Nose twitching in that cute little way Kurt liked and the curly headed boy took one slow step. Kurt moved that much closer. They continued this little dance until their chests. With deliberate care, Blaine rose on his toes and his lips met Kurt’s. Moist flesh lightly mashed with flesh, sending a rush up Blaine’s body. Energized since their first kiss, he marveled at every new thing he experienced. Kissing Kurt gave Blaine confidence he never knew he had. At the regional competition, he and Kurt killed their duet and then Blaine knocked the other song out of the park. Yes, they lost, the New Directions pulled a rabbit out of their hats by singing original music and Rachel blew his socks off. When two boys walked hand in hand away from a tiny grave, they both knew they had won something far more important than a trophy. 

A few weeks later, his heart almost shattered when Kurt tearfully told Blaine he wanted to go back to McKinley. Tearing up, Blaine could not believe Kurt wanted to break up. Admittedly, he could be dense about romantic things, but this completely floored him. What had he done? How could he fix it? Did Kurt really care for him? He found out when, with the tears began to flow down his cheeks, Kurt grabbed his hands. There, on the Hummel’s back porch the drew Blaine into an affectionate hug as his boyfriend soothed frayed emotions. Burning his head into Kurt’s shoulder Blaine pleaded to keep the boy he loved from running. To make his point he kissed Blaine with such heat, Blaine could have fainted. 

Dreading the day when it finally arrived, Blaine could not hold his emotions in check. Singing to Kurt in a McKinley courtyard proved difficult and at times he felt as if he may lose it. The look on Kurt’s face gave his strength because he noted watched those blue eyes brim with emotion. Turning back before leaving the school yard, he could not stop from smiling as Kurt hugged all his friends. The sight did not prevent him from feeling horrible. Wes and Trent came back to get him, and Trent ended up giving Blaine a hug. Dragging him off for coffee, they tried to cheer Blaine up, but that did not happen until he got a loving text from Kurt. This led into another and another and before they knew it, they discovered an innocent way to keep connected. 

Every day they met after school even though the distance played on them. Blaine missed Kurt terribly when the New Directions traveled to New York for the national competition. It just happened his brother decided to drop by the same week and Blaine found the interactions between his father and brother sickening. Cooper’s show uncharacteristic kindness during his previous visit had vanished. This time he constantly spoke about the television show he had just landed. Daniel praised his favourite son as the two ignored Blaine.

Then Kurt came home, and Blaine rushed to the Lima Bean to beat him there. During the explanation of Kurt’s adventure, three fateful words erupted in such a natural way they did not surprise him at all. Kurt paused, and Blaine could see them sinking in as the boy hesitated before slowly swallowing his coffee. The sparkle in those blue eyes clued Blaine to his chair because he did not need to hear the happy response. When he returned the sentiment, Blaine went numb with pleasure. With nothing better to do than stare into those eyes, Blaine felt as if he floated in the clouds.

Sometime later, they stood in knee-deep in the grass looking across the river to the trees on the other side. Their hands slowly slipped apart as they wrapped their arms about each other pulling themselves into the hug. The feeling melted deep into Blaine’s toes and then he released a huge sigh. 

“What is it, my love” Kurt softly asked as he squeezed his boyfriend tighter.

Kurt knew him so well and Blaine knew he could not hide. Resting his head on a comforting shoulder, Blaine smelt Kurt’s rose scented bath soap. A sigh escaped his lips and he said, “I’m just remembering the past few weeks. Our relationship is evolving and regardless of our initial fears, it’s like we’re traveling a seemingly natural path.”

“It does doesn’t it.” Kurt took up that hand again. 

Blaine’s chin drifted down to his chest. “And―”

Stroking Blaine’s gelled down hair, Kurt quietly said, “And the fact I’m in McKinley and you’re in Dalton.”

“Yes.” Blaine sighed again as his head sank.

“Oh, my darling brooding boyfriend.” Kurt drew him closer.

Pushing back ever so slightly, he mumbled in his defense, “I’m not a brooder.”

“Oh, yes you are, my darling love,” Kurt’s left hand effortlessly slipped into his boyfriend’s right and he started to walk. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Blaine looked puzzled as he stumbled along. Until this moment Blaine had never considered himself to be a brooder. He did not know if he liked it, but then it made sense. As a child he never held anything back, but as his home life changed, he found himself holding it in where it would stew.

With a shrug, Kurt pulled on the hand to quicken the pace, “I don’t know. It’s an adventure.” 

Leading his fuzzy headed boyfriend around the large outcropping of stone, they walked up onto the grass under the overhang of thick tree. The lack of trails indicated people rarely wandered this far from the picnic area and playfields, and it suited the playful mood. Some distance down the river, friends from rival show groups tossed balls around and sang songs together. Seven cars sat in the parking lot and nineteen teens enjoyed a nice Saturday. 

The river made a lazy curve along a deep drop to the water and the trees moved back. The meadow looked like it flooded out every spring, but for now tall grasses grew everywhere. Off in the distance a lonely rock stuck out of the grass by the riverbank. The large, flat topped, stone jutted out over the river where the flow dug the dirt out from its base. The side facing the field sloped to the grass while the top of the rock looked flat with a bump to one side. The part over the water had a shelf which made it perfect for sitting. Low shrubs and tall grassed surrounded it on three sides. For some reason the threat of rain in a few hours did not bother him. 

“Kurt, what’s going on?” Blaine asked as he trotted along to the pull of the hand in his.

Not relenting, Kurt worked his way through the grass. “That rock will be perfect.”

“For what?” Blaine pulled on Kurt’s hand, slowing him down.

“It’s a place we can sit and watch the river.”

“Alone?”

“Very much alone.”

Letting Kurt’s hand go, Blaine tore off through the grass. Twirling around with his arms open wide as he beamed at Kurt, who strolled to catch up to him. Jumping up onto the rock, Blaine held his hands out and Kurt took it when he caught up. Both smiled and then sat side by side with their feet hanging down toward the glistening water. Leaning into each other, they glanced about noting the wide curve of the river and the slow-moving glistening water. Trees sprouting on the opposite bank like weeds and exposed roots reinforced the bank adding structure to the bank. The sun beat down overhead adding heat to combat the chill in the breeze.

Blaine inclined against Kurt, who had to steady himself with the sudden weight. Since they pushed the friendship over the boundary into boyfriends, they took it slow, mostly because Kurt continued to be tentative about his desires. Blaine did not exactly know what to do either, but at least he educated himself by watching porn prior to meeting Kurt. Kissing and staying north of the waistline pushed the envelope and regardless of a growing need to do more, Blaine wanted Kurt to be comfortable. The poor boy virtually jumped through his skin one day when Blaine raked his tongue over those soft nipples. Kurt’s pleasing reaction made it the most dangerous thing they had done.

As aggravating as waiting could be at times, it allowed the two of them to get to know each other as best friends. It also allowed Blaine to fully come to grips with the emotions from several serious talked bubbled up in him. The most importance and scary involved talking to Burt at garage taught before their first kiss. After all this time, Blaine stood in awe of Kurt’s father and their deep and loving partnership. He found himself both jealous and frightened, and it made him realize things could not be rushed. Speaking to Burt at the garage been more out of concern for Kurt, but once he understood where his emotions lay, he thought of that conversation differently. It certainly surprised Kurt when Burt sat him down to have ‘the talk’. Blaine had never known Kurt to lie to him and why would he start when he told that embarrassing story. Blaine apologized because he felt he pressed Kurt, but he also wanted Kurt to be safe. 

Now that they accepted their attachment, Kurt relaxed enough to hold hands in the halls, but not out on the street. Here at the river the walls relaxed because friend protected and created a respectful atmosphere. Now, on this rock, Blaine felt very much at home. The school year would be ending soon, and Blaine had his worries, and a walk seemed like the right thing to do. 

Lifting Kurt’s hand to his lips, Blaine gently kissed it and then looked up at his beaming partner. In a low voice he commented, “It’s lovely here.”

“Yes, it is and thank you for dragging me into the woods.” Kurt kissed Blaine’s fingers and looked at him from an angle. His lips curled up ever so slightly into an impish grin. “I thought you wanted to ravage me.”

Eyes flickering, Blaine’s mind went numb for a moment, and then he blinked. In a low tone, he responded, “I would . . . but―”

“You’re waiting for me and I know it . . .” Kurt fell silent and then squeezed the hand he held. “Thank you for thinking of me. I know it frustrates you and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Blaine stroked the hand he held.

Kurt sighed. “At times I want to but, then―”

“Sh-h-h-h,” Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt’s to shut him up. The other boy snuggled close and when the separate they rested their forehead against each other.

“You’re so good to me,” Kurt whispered. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Blaine smiled. “You said hello on a set of stairs.” 

Exhaling, Kurt sat up keeping his eyes looked on the hazel he liked so much. “Blaine, I know you would like to go further, but I’m not sure.”

Taking both of Kurt’s hands on his Blaine grinned. “Kurt, I can wait until you’re ready. As I said that day, I do not want to screw this up. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I adore you. I adore your voice and the way your eyes change when you see me. I like to watch you walk away because that walk makes going to bed alone more pleasant.”

Redness flashed up Kurt’s neck and cheeks and he looked down. “No?”

“Sometimes I do ‘that’ thinking about your . . . assists.” The colour in Blaine’s face flushed red.

More heat rose in Kurt and his eyes flickered in that sexy way when he accepted a compliment which would embarrass him in public. “Blaine . . . oh . . . Blaine―”

“When you told me, you wanted to return to McKinley it broke my―”

“Oh, Blaine.”

“I love you Kurt, and I’m not going anywhere you do not want you.”

Kurt beamed. “We’re both young and inexperienced, but I want to learn with you and grow with you. I want us to share so many firsts together and to walk into the sunset together.”

Blaine chuckled.

One brow going up, Kurt asked, “What?”

“It’s like all those old westerns.” Smiling at his handsome boyfriend, Blaine set his lip to Kurt’s fingers. “We’ve until we’re twenty or so.”

“That’s old.”

“I can’t imagine what I will be doing when I turn twenty.”

“I want to be on stage singing for my Tony.”

“Yes, Rachel.”

Playfully hitting Blaine on the air with a big smile. “You’re such a brat.”

Shyly looking back, Blaine whispered, “I can’t help it if you bring out the naughtiness in me.”

“Proper you?” Kurt gave his boyfriend a funny gaze.

Bashfully, one side of Blaine’s face curled up into a smirk. Putting a hand on his chest, he responded in a sweetly innocent tone, “Little old me.”

“Really?” Kurt chuckled. “Some of the things you say.”

Wiggling his bushy brows, Blaine said in a husky voice, “You bring it out in me.”

“So, you’re blaming me.”

“Sort of, but admit it, you like it?”

“Yeah . . . me too.”

“Kurt, you make me so happy and all I want to do is please you.”

“All you want is for me to―”

“Ah . . . yeah . . . yes . . . but―” Blaine felt rebuked.

“I really . . . really appreciate you waiting.” Kurt put an arm about Blaine and pulled him close. “This is all so new and scary.”

“I know.” Blaine sighed and glanced into those wonderful blue eyes. Stroking Kurt’s hands, he softly added, “I love you, Kurt. You’re my everything.”

“I love you too, my cute canary.”

Their lips met again and for a longer moment than usual. Blushing when he pulled back, Kurt asked, “Where do you see yourself at twenty-five?”

“That feels like a lifetime away. I would like to get out of the teens first . . . but―”

“But?”

“I don’t even know what I want to do after high school. I was thinking about college or university.”

“Rachel and I are going to NYADA.”

“So, you’ve told me. I’m not sure if I want to go to NYADA or any other school of the arts. Maybe I will become an accountant?”

Making a face, Kurt gazed at his boyfriend on a strange angle. “Like your dad?”

Blaine’s jaw clamped shut and then he shook his head. “Ah . . . no, but, I guess, I’m not sure what I want.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. You are so damn talented, and you have to go to NYADA so you will kill them on Broadway.”

“Rachel will be jealous.”

“Let her be jealous.”

The boys laughed and then kissed. The smoothness of Kurt’s lips touching his, made Blaine shivers as heat pressed up his torso. He loved the sensation and the way he made him feel so connected.

“At twenty-five, what do I want?” Blaine glanced up into the sky as if thinking. 

Kurt shook his head as his lips spread from ear to ear

Knowing Kurt beamed into his shoulder, made Blaine happy. Still rubbing Kurt’s arm, he said, “Twenty-five? I guess there will be a Tony on the shelf for each of us and we’ll have a nice two-story house looking out onto a lake surrounded by trees. We’ll have five dogs―”

“Five?” Kurt blurt out. “Maybe two?”

Snickering, Blaine rolled his eyes and went on. “You know the white picket fence and room in the backyard for Cooper when he visits. We can put him in a tent out there or we will never have silence.”

“He’ll love that.”

“He doesn’t have to. All that talking will keep the children awake.”

“Children?”

“Yes, I would love to have children.”

“Child . . . ren?” Kurt’s voice broke.

Sitting up, Blaine slid a hand under Kurt’s chin and lifted his head. “Yes, children, Kurt. I love the idea of a little you running around wanting to play dress up and have a tea party in the backyard.”

“Me?

“Yes, you?”

“But―”

“We can―”

“Blaine?”

“No, Kurt, we do not have to do THAT.” The thought of THAT with a girl sent a quiver up Blaine’s back bringing back images of a drunken kiss. Internal tensions diminished when he sensed the pressure drain from his lover, Blaine felt oddly smug. “I’ve read we can get someone to carry the child for us.”

Slouching, Kurt deflated. “Children.”

“We don’t need to think of it now. Maybe when we’re old, like, twenty-five.” Blaine stared into Kurt’s distant blue eyes.

Nodding, Kurt smiled. “Children. Our children. I would love that, but it seems like a lot for twenty-five?”

“Cooper’s older than twenty-five.”

“Just look at all those wrinkles.”

A huge smile exploded on Blaine’s face. “Don’t say that to him when you meet him.”

“Isn’t he doing something in commercials?” Kurt inquired as he leaned into Blaine again. 

“And he never lets us forget it.”

“At twenty-five, we could have a house in the Hamptons and a winter place in Key West.”

“A spring place in the south of France.”

“A yacht.”

“And a plane to get there.”

Suddenly bursting out laughing, Kurt pressed his shoulder into Blaine. 

“What?” Blaine’s brows pushed together as his head tilted to one side.

“Look at the two of us making plans with we’re old.” Kurt responded with a quick peck on the cheek.

“What are we going to do when we reach thirty?”

“Retire.”

“You and I, retire. Yeah, right. We’ll be lucky to have an apartment on the outskirts of Lima next to the pumpkin fields watching the dogs run for days.”

“Oh, you’re such a brooding killjoy. Play with me.”

Without warning, Blaine reached over and started to tickle his lover. Defending himself, Kurt’s arms covered his midsection and sides. Squirming away, he scooted across the top of the stone with Blaine following him. Not paying attention to the drop off, Kurt started to fall toward the water and Blaine caught him. Drawing him from the edge the fuzzy headed boy pulled Kurt against him as he leaned back to balance himself. Overestimating the motion Blaine fell on is back with a thump with his boyfriend on top of him. Wild blue eyes met sorrowful hazel and then their lips pressed into each other like their happiness depended on it.

Fire radiated from Blaine’s lips into his cheeks and down his neck. Sinking his tongue into a willing mouth, he drew Kurt into a tighter embrace as he reveled in the sensations caressing his body. Cooled by the wind and heated by his passion, Blaine started to move beneath Kurt even though the rock dug into his back. The lips of the teen on top tasted perfect and the lashing of his tongue took him closer to a place Blaine dreamed of. The thickening member in his pants encroached on Kurt, whose body reacted in a similar manner. 

Regardless of the rock gouging his back, he fought off the desire to take things a little further. Fingers slowly did the walking down his adorable lover’s back looking for that place here clothe overlaid clothe. Modest intentions side, he longed to touch Kurt’s skin, but the heat rising in him demanded he find that spot in the small of his back which made him crazy. Maybe, he may have been able to slide past the border into the unexplored southern territory.

Coming up for air, Blaine raked his tongue over Kurt swollen lips and went back for more. The boy on top started to roll and Blaine found himself moving with him and then he abruptly stop—someone called their names from the distance.

Glancing back, the way they had walked along the water, Blaine’s frown turned into a grimace of pain and he began to push up on Kurt.

“Blaine?” Kurt whispered with deep concern.

The shorter teen groaned, “Can you please get off me, the rock is breaking my back.”

Springing like a cat caught in an uncomfortable place, Kurt rolled and jumped away. Edging toward the edge of the large stone, a hand caught his bringing him to a halt. Hazel met blue and then they smiled at each other. Red faced, Kurt replied in a tentatively silent voice, “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Kurt. I was rather enjoying having you on top of me. The rock just did not want to cooperate.” Stroking soft skin, Blaine, knew his dear lover felt the heat as well. One more than one occasion he noticed the hardness between Kurt’s legs spreading tight fabric. Blaine found Kurt’s reaction adorably enduring as he blushed through his deflation. “Maybe it was a good thing.”

“Maybe it was,” Kurt drew in a deep, almost sad, breath, and pressed his head against the hand resting on his face. 

Sensitive fingertips felt Kurt trembling causing hazel orbs to shift toward blue. The moment they met, Blaine’s heart swelled, and he smiled. The other hand touched a cheek so they cupped Kurt’s handsome face between them. Gently, sexily, he set his lips to Kurt’s so skin barely touched skin. Nose to nose, they remained still for a moment and then Blaine slowly pulled back. 

“You’re so lovely.” Emotion laced Kurt’s hushed voice. 

“And, you’re so spe―” Blaine’s head and torso turned away as water sprayed up over himself and Kurt. The man he held onto jerked back. 

“Will you two knock it off.” Someone yelled some distance away, 

Scooting apart, Kurt panted as he glared down the riverbank to see a shirtless Wes jogging toward them with a stupid look on his face. Groaning Blaine and then whispered to Kurt, “We can come back here.”

“I'd like that.” Kurt quickly kissed Blaine on the cheek just as a shadow blocked the sun.


	11. It's Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has explicit sexual content.

Guilt touched Blaine because he felt both stupid and greatly relieved. Friday night splashed about in a morass of ugly—dancing, drinking, and openly flirting with someone other than his love. He liked the attention and the freedom alcohol provided, but it left a bad taste in his mouth and heart. Storming off in the parking lot sobered him up enough to suddenly feel miserable. The idea his actions caused Kurt discomfort had never crossed his mind until he threw himself down on a wet bench and placed his head in his hands. Looking back the way he had come, he shook his head and then let out a soft sob. He hated himself for causing their first moment of discourse.

Saturday stared Blaine in the face along with the spreading joy of his first hangover. Words barely passed between the strained boyfriends when the cast gathered for a pre-opening night pep talk. The events and tumbling emotions caught both of them up in a title wave leaving them stranded on opposite shores. Blaine could see the desolation in his lover’s eyes as Kurt moved about the stage doing what he had to do. The silence killed him, but a grin here and there cut the tension. He adored Kurt but did not know what to do as nothing had prepared him for the hurt love rendered. At moments bravery took him and then absolute fear. Who could he talk to? None of his friends would understand.

The show went on and the crowd loved it. Blaine felt elated but also sad, thus he halfheartedly promised he would meet with the gang later. Oddly, Kurt had not been part of that conversation which made Blaine more upset. Then, after a while, he saw he Burt and Carole busily chatted offstage with their son. When everyone ran off to celebrate Blaine sank into a funk using a bad dance step as an excuse, he lingered behind.

That single move reflected the way Blaine felt. Over and over again, he twisted his body up into the air, hoping he could get more than just right. Landing for the seventh time he caught something in the corner of his eye. Spinning about, Kurt stood a few yards away watching. Light, seeking smiled brightened their face followed by kind words passed between them. Blaine scarcely heard them until a name escaped Kurt’s lips. It smacked like a hand sharply, hitting his cheek.

Regret swelling in his chest, Blaine half smiled. Glancing at his sullen boyfriend, he said, “Come here. Gimme your hand.”

The other boy strolled over.

Taking Kurt’s hand in his Blaine pressed it against the other boy’s chest, adding, “And hold it to your heart.”

“Just like the song?” Kurt asked.

“Like the song. Kurt―” Blaine breathed, his chest tight. Looking directly into Kurt’s eyes, he continued, “Sebastian doesn’t mean anything to me. And you were right. Our first time shouldn’t be like that. I was drunk, and I’m sorry.”

Kurt looked suddenly bashful. “Well, it sure beats the last time you were drunk and made out with Rachel.”

Blaine’s heads sank to his chest as he shook it ever so slightly. He had a stupid smirk on his face.

Grinning, Kurt apologized, “But I’m sorry too. I wanted to be your gay bar superstar, but, try as I might, I’m still just a silly romantic.”

“It’s not silly.” Blaine leaned and kissed Kurt. Not a simple peck, passion swelled, and their arms drew each other in a loving embrace.

Pulling away, Kurt exhaled. “You take my breath away. Not just now, but tonight on that stage. I was so proud to be with you.”

“I hope so.” Blaine paused and then finished in a deeper, gravelly tone, “I want you to be.”

Kurt smiled, his eyes staring into the teen across from him with fondness.

“Um―” Blaine hesitated. “Artie’s having an after party. At Breadstix. Would you accompany me?”

A pregnant pause and then Kurt seductively said, “No. I wanna go to your house.”

“Okay,” Blaine softly replied. His heart jumped.

Neither spoke as he drove his mother’s car down the street. Attentive to what he did, he also held the hand of the teen beside him. The silence felt dreamy as neither of them spoke. His right automatically found Kurt’s left creating that sense of heavenly bliss. Rubbing thumbs together they both knew what approached. Apprehension stuck as he turned the corner heading down the street he lived on. His father would be away, and Pam would already be asleep. Cooper, no worry, he would not be back for months. The moment on the stage together made Blaine tingle down to his toes. The touch of his hand sent his head spinning in the most comfortable way. In that place where only memory lived-in the hand an old man held felt the warmth of a life well-spent. Yet, they did not tell the entire story. Nothing could rightfully capture those last few moments as the car slowed. Blaine wanted to make it last, but to his shock Daniel’s car sat the driveway almost killing the mood.

“Oh dear,” Blaine chocked. He looked to Kurt, his car slowing to a virtual stop fifty feet from the driveway.

“What?” Kurt did not understand the circumstance.

“My father’s home,” Blaine felt Kurt’s hand suddenly go cold. Until now, it had been softly trembling.

“We don’t―” Kurt’s voice quivered.

Blaine looked to his left seeing the disappointment the eye eyes of the boy he loved. Drawing in a breath, Blaine squeezed the hand he held. “No, no Kurt, we soldier on.”

“But Blaine?”

“He’s probably been drinking and mom’s a heavy sleeper. If we’re quiet―”

“But.”

Blaine lifted Kurt’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “Do you want this?”

“More than anything,” came the breathless, shaking replied.

Blaine smiled and eased the car into the driveway. A few minutes later they stood on the back porch holding Kurt’s trembling hand. Blaine put a finger to his lips as if signaling for silence and slid the key into the lock before carefully turned it and pushed. The hinge squeaked and then froze. Kurt tugged on the hand he held as if wanting to run, but Blaine’s confident look soothed him. Suddenly Kurt started to shuck his shoes and Blaine shook his head and pointed to the stairs.

“Who’s there,” a deep voice suddenly called out.

Kurt panicked, but Blaine reassuringly squeezed his hand. Blowing his lover, a reassuring kiss, he called out, “Just me, dad.”

A loud grunt replied, and Blaine knew his father ended another fight in the bottle. Hopefully he sat in his usual spot tucked away in the living room corner where he could not see the stairs. Gleaming hazel sought blue revealing the fear they held, but also deep desire and longing. A month ago, he got caught watching porn, well, acting out his pornographic fantasies would be worse. Blaine no longer cared what his father thought.

Fear filled Kurt’s shadowy face and then he grinned. Buoyed by the hopeful look, Blaine tugged on Kurt’s hand and drew him across the kitchen and into the short hall leading to the stairs. He paused for a brief and Kurt bumped into Blaine. Somewhere nearby a glass hit a table, followed by snoring.

Blood pumped under warm skin of the hand he held, the couple edged up the stairs. The force of Kurt’s hand crushing his reassured Blaine they did the right thing. The leader slowed when the hall came into view—no lights, great. Pulling Kurt, the other boy almost tripped releasing a surprised squeak. Catching him, Blaine smiled, and he led on. Kurt resisted, but Blaine did not give in. Nothing in the world could prevent this now.

A moment later Blaine heaved a sigh of relief when he pushed his door shut. Kurt stood between the door and the bed, staring at Blaine like a scared rabbit. Deliberately placing a single over his lips as if asking for silence, Blaine rushed to enfold Kurt in his arms. The other boy hesitated and then leaned into the hug. Feeling a huge sense of ‘they made it’ Blaine felt the tension drain from him. Stroking Kurt’s back ever so gently, he held his lover until the trembling abated.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Blaine quietly asked, “Are you alright, Kurt.”

The other boy pushed his head into Blaine’s shoulder and a soft, tender kiss became his reply. Both boys felt they could breathe. Poking his head up, Kurt’s gazed at Blaine with no sign of fear faded away as his lips spread into the most delicious grin. In that second Blaine swore he could see naughty words in his head. Together the just stood there, holding trembling bodies and enjoying a moment of loving calm.

“Now what?” Kurt whispered so quietly the words could barely be heard. His voice wavered with fear and anticipation.

The answer came in the form of a kiss as Blaine threw himself at Kurt forcing the slightly older boy off balance. Together they fell onto the bed, wrapping their arms about each other. Tongues lashed at each other in a confined space. For the longest time hands remained locked in place behind each other’s backs. Squished underneath, Kurt squirmed followed by Blaine rolling to his right dragging Kurt onto his side. Their lips never left each other, even as he gasped for air. A hand pulled at the back of Blaine’s shirt sending a shiver up his spin. Light fingers caressed the skin at the small of his back, making a cock to swell.

Panting, he had a confused look on his face, Kurt suddenly pushed away. Without thinking, Blaine reached behind taking Kurt’s hand and placing it back where it had been. Kurt frowned and pulled at the cloth—the cutest boy in the world wore a polo shirt over a tank top. Kurt worked the outer layer up and in response Blaine sat up. Reaching up over his head to grab the fabric, Kurt suddenly clutched Blaine’s hands stopping him. Shaking his head, he pulled at the first layer dragging it up over Blaine’s head. The tank top came with it, but never made it all the way. The polo landed on the floor as a single finger landed on Blaine’s chest above the rim of the tank top. He traced the curving line highlighted by sparse beams of light passing through the breaks in the curtains.

Cheerful, Blaine reached for Kurt’s shirt and the other boy did not objection when he pulled it off, leaving the T-shirt beneath. Suddenly they paused and their eyes locked. Lying down with their head on the pillow, they settled down on the bed nose to nose. Gazing at each other, legs pulled up with knees close together, Kurt’s thumb lazily caressed Blaine chest through thin fabric. Caught in the moment, neither of them moved because they had found that place where heaven touched them. For a moment one of them thought he saw a thirties something man in pre-Victorian garments staring at him. Goose bumps erupted on bare skin. Slowly, their hands came together, and Blaine smiled ever so sweetly. Gradually their breathing and hearts synchronized, creating timeless perfection.

Lying still, it surprised both when Kurt jumped first. Driving his mouth into Blaine’s he rolled up on top of him. In response Blaine’s arms wrapped around Kurt’s back with the swelling passion. Fabric moved and then Kurt rose up tearing his undershirt off. Blaine stared at Kurt’s smooth, alabaster chest and then the fingers of one hand pressed up against warm, erect nipples. Kurt’s head rolled to one side as a muted moan rumbled in his thought. Then, with full intent, he pushed them down as he leaned into for a long, wet kiss. When he came up for air, he yanked Blaine’s tank top up over his head. By now, Blaine’s fingers had found the ridge of Kurt’s pants. Digging down past the visa line, Kurt let out groan which Blaine found intoxicating. The land south the border had all the smoothness of a newborn and the valley spoke of promised riches. The boy on top squirmed and threw himself at Blaine with increased vigor as lips locked tight.

Blaine felt his head go fuzzy and the forced his head to one side so he could grasp for breath. Kurt did not pause as he left a track of kissed down Blaine’s neck and onto his arm. Extending his arm, Kurt washed his skin with his tongue and lips, causing Blaine to wildly twitched. Those lustful lips worked down into his armpit causing Blaine to jerk suddenly before roaming down the side of the ribcage and over to the belly button. Moving down to the waistline, Kurt suddenly stopped and looked up at his beautiful boyfriend. Blaine’s wide, blown eyes shined and then he nodded with a crazy grin.

Fingers fumbled with a snap followed by the tension of a zipper moved and then hesitant anticipation gripped Kurt paused again. He looked up only to see Blaine stared down the length of his body with a look of ecstasy on his face. The ripping sound of metal against metal lasted, but a second and then Blaine felt warm breath caress his leg as Kurt gasped.  The V at the collar revealed a tuft of dark hair running from under the blue waistband and up his torso where it vanished just below the belly button. Kurt sighed because for the first time he realized Blaine shaved his body—pity.

Stretched beneath the fabric a wonder presented itself in full detail. Plump and hard Blaine marveled at the look on Kurt’s face as it reminded him of a young child who just unwrapped new toy. Glistening blue eyes stared down at the shape beneath the cloth encouraging Blaine all the more. The muscles at the base of his swollen member pulsed and the appendage jolted in its restraints to match. Kurt cooed, and Blaine’s head rolled to the right. The moment approached with the sensation of the man he loved pulling his pants down.

Sticking because of the weight of Blaine’s body, Kurt began to pull like a madman. When they suddenly gave away when Blaine lifted his hips, Kurt shot back with a happy look on his face. Moments later he knelt on the edge of the bed with a pair of trousers in his hands. Gazing at a young man lying there only in his underwear, the pride of Blaine youthful manhood stretched underneath.

Suddenly the former Warbler felt no weight upon up. Puzzled, Blaine looked up to see Kurt stood at the end of the bed, staring at him with wide, adoring eyes. The moment lingered until Kurt reached for the snap of his pants. Blaine’s scooted to the end of the bed where he kissed Kurt’s torso and then bent down low. Pressing his mouth against bulging jeans, he chewed at the rigidity beneath. Innocent peeking at urinals had nothing on the real thing, he now worshiped. Know it hung low did not prepare him for what he felt beneath his lips.  The monster of his dreams thumped beneath the thick fabric impatiently demanding release. With delicate care he playfully pulled Kurt’s pants down only to be faced with a delectable surprise—Kurt wore no underwear.

Kurt shivered and the joy muscle between his legs suddenly lost some of its firmness. Blaine looked up with a look of wonder on his face while Kurt stared down at him with wide eyes filled with shame. He younger lad on his knees gave Kurt a reassuring smile, because before Blaine stood the most gorgeous man in the world. Slowly standing, Blaine lashed his tongue across Kurt’s teenage stubble as a hand tentatively touched the thickening fuzz growing on his chest.

Taking Kurt’s right hand in his, Blaine forced it down to his underwear. The other boy’s finger quivered and those blue eyes went wide. Soundly kissing Kurt, Blaine lightly traced a line down the teen’s back to the top of the crease between his buttock. A shivering breath escaped his nose. He had dreamed of this moment for so long and now he wanted to learn the most intimate things Kurt could teach.

Tongues pressed into each other’s months, increasing mattered further south. When he felt Kurt relax, he pushed the hand he held down so that it lay on his cock. Soft hands wrapped around seven and a half inches of firm chunkiness. Blaine reached back, and his shorts fell to his ankles. Naked at last, the two boys stood gazing at one another gently holding one other’s private bits.

Hazel eyes slowly racked the shadowy body in front of him. Suddenly, Blaine fell to his knees and Kurt wanted to go with him, but hand pushed him up. The older boy whimpered when Blaine’s tongue tracked up his semi-hardness bringing it back to life. A hand landed on Blaine’s shoulder as the lashing rolled down to the hair at the base of his thickening shaft. Burying his face up the other side, Blaine curled his tongue over an anticipating head. Taking it in his mouth, the girth of Kurt’s nine-inch penis spread his gums wide. Fighting back a gag, he pulled back just as Kurt groaned. Riding his lips down again, he journeyed a little further. With each repeat he took more into his willing mouth.

All of a sudden Kurt pulled away and, just as the swollen head escaped the moist cave, the kneeling boy felt the pressure of something splashing against his nose, cheek and lips. Blaine abruptly threw his head back and let out a low, rumbling moan. A stream of hot cream sprayed out across the rug and up Kurt’s leg.

Gooey sauce dripped from Blaine’s nose. Too soon. Too excited. Too fucking lovely. Reaching for his tank top he wiped his face as his eyes went up to Kurt. He stood there with his chin hanging down quivering. Quickly standing, Blaine placed both hands on his face and stared at the tear escaped Kurt’s eye.

“Sh-h-h-h,” Blaine reassured his lover as he gently stroked the skin beside Kurt’s eye.

Kurt stumbled on his words. “Blaine . . . I―”

Kissing his stunning boyfriend, Blaine shared the taste of what remained on his face. Wrapping his arms about Kurt, he turned him around and carefully lowered him onto the bed. Kurt resisted, but gave into Blaine’s tender ministrations.

Shivering, tears rolling down his cheeks, Kurt pushed Blaine back. In a shaky, ashamed tone, he mumbled, “I . . . I . . . so―”

“Sh-h-h-h, Kurt.” Blaine kissed him passionately.

“Blaine―”

“Think of that as an eager appetizer.”

“Blaine?”

“Now for the main course.”

The puzzled look on Kurt’s face vanished when Blaine fell on him. Hot and heavy kisses rained upon Kurt as the two rolled about like frenzied rabbits. All the porn Blaine watched suddenly came into play as he explored the body in a manner Kurt would never expect. Nibbling and licking his way along fingers to the nap of the neck and around nipped at his ears. Purposely staying away from the ultimate erogenous zone, Blaine left little untouched. Kurt’s body violently gyrated. Gently chewing on the knee produced groans and sucking on toes caused him to pull his feet way. Blaine did not give in as he pulled him back into his willing month to playful torture his pliable lover. Kurt barely got the option to reciprocate as Blaine took over teasing him with tender smooches.

Some time later, both young men stretched to their generous fullness again. Kurt became more aggressive as he reached for Blaine’s cock. His partner allowed him a tantalizing grope, but not much more. Abruptly Blaine rolled away and stretched for the nightstand where he opened the and grabbed a half empty tube bottle. Twisting the top off as he turned, he squirted an abundant supply onto Kurt’s cock. The other boy jumped at the sudden chill, but moaned at the silky message.

Tossing the tube aside, Blaine threw his leg over Kurt, so he straddled him. Clasping Kurt’s throbbing member in his hand, Blaine lowered himself upon it until the head pushed into him. The pain suddenly stopped him, and Blaine’s face scrunched. The look on Kurt’s face turned from utter astonishment to deep concern. Eyes pleaded, but the boy on top only blew him a kiss and pressed down until he could take no more. He waited a few seconds and then exerted himself again. Discomfort flashed over his face and Kurt pushed against his lover’s chest, trying to get him off. Blaine pressed down again and winced. Another inch and then a few seconds to catch his breath. It took a few moments, but his buttock finally rested on Kurt’s pelvis.

“Blaine?” Kurt gasped. Blue eyes stared up in the dim light.

Blaine felt the skin down there pull beyond what he could consider comfortable. He endured even as he felt the girth diminish. The fear etched in Kurt’s face forced Blaine to stroke the cheek of the man he loved. “No, I am fine. Just hurts a bit.”

“We can―”

“No,”

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice had strength to it.

Taking Kurt’s hand, Blaine kissed it. “My sweet, sweet Kurt, I’ve been wanting this for weeks.”

Kurt smiled as Blaine leaned forward into a kiss. He grunted with the discomfort as the throbbing appendage inside rubbed against his tight hole. As if by instinct, Kurt’s hips rose up with Blaine pressing his cock deeper into his lover as their lips pressed into each other with affectionate reassurance. The tenderness of their meeting allowed both of them to relax, and in response, the man on top moved his body so he rode up and down on the shifter shaft. The motion caused it to pulse and regain its stunning glory meaning renewed soreness Blaine no longer cared about. The love of his life reached deeper into him than he had ever thought possible and as the motions increased, ecstasy took both of them. Slowly Kurt got into the rhythm and Blaine stifled his growing need to cry out. One of Kurt’s hands came up and played with a nipple while the other stroked his lover’s cock sending Blaine into orbit. Twenty, thirty minutes later Kurt suddenly arched his back. Thrusting up into Blaine, he tried to push his lover off him. Blaine resisted by pushing down onto the engorged cock. He played it until Kurt called out and Blaine exploded onto Kurt’s hairless chest at the same moment.

Sweating, they stayed as they were for a while longer beaming at each other as the juices of Blaine’s joy dripped down Kurt’s chest and onto the duvet. Letting out a soft, pleased sigh, Blaine leaned forward to kiss his lover. The stiffness pressing into him deflated and he carefully and even painfully, removed himself from the top of his exquisite lover. Nothing he watched or fantasized could have prepared him for the real thing. Only two people occupied the planet and nothing else mattered. Rolling over onto his side Blaine felt perfectly satisfied and ultimately in love.

Leaning into Kurt, Blaine kissed his nose and then he laid his head on the affectionate man’s chest. A finger came up and traced a line through the warm liquid pooled on Kurt’s chest. Eyes locked on each other both could not stop themselves from smiling. Slowly their hands came together in front of each other’s mouths. Peering at each other, their lips touched the back of the other’s hand. Snuggling there, they fell asleep clutching each other.

Rising into a heightened state of emotion, old Blaine leaned forward and kissed his lover’s still hand. The warmth of that moment so many years ago filled the him with such adoring love he could burst. Suddenly he chuckled, and it became a low cough. Two listless boys had no idea Pam guarded the door from the snoring husband in the living room chair. In the morning they woke to a quiet house to find a note slid under the door telling Blaine his parents had gone out for breakfast and some shopping. Cleaning up led to arousal and Blaine’s chance to enter Kurt. That night they happy and a little uncomfortably grinned at each other across the stage.

 


	12. Date Night

An old man bashfully recalled the looks on Kurt’s youthful face and the fondness in his heavenly blue eyes. That night led to so much and a picture on the wall spoke of the path it led them down. The happy couple stood on the banks of the Hudson River with the Statue of Liberty behind them holding hands and vividly smiling. The iconic lady no longer stood there, having been dismantled years ago to save it from the rising ocean. It proved too difficult to cut up the huge hunk of granite, so now the relentless waves played where two feet once stood. 

He always liked the antique photograph because is symbolized all their hopes and dreams. Rachel took it the day after they moved to New York after their surprise wedding. Tenderly smiling, another picture caused his eyes to move and his mind instantly flipped to a wonderful day. Water caressed the rock, they proclaimed ‘their rock’, jutting out into the river making gentle gurgling noises. The sound of the wind rustling through the grass and leaves added to a symphony of nature. ‘Their rock’ became a magical place where two young men dreamed of a life to come and talked about the life they lived. ‘Their rock’ vanished about twenty-five years after the left Lima when the park became a camp for those displaced from the coast. 

The day started out warm and ranged up to eight-four degrees plus mugginess with a few clouds dancing across the sun. After moving to the coast, it took Blaine took a while to acclimatize to the difference. In time the damp heat of summer no longer bothered him and like everyone else in the huge city, the lovebirds went on with their lives. When they journeyed back to Lima, both mentioned how the summers felt more comfortable. The season before Kurt left for New York held a magical place in Blaine’s heart. Both worked, but they learned so much about one another as the days rolled into night creating the cycle of their lives.

A cool breeze rolled up the Auglaize River caressing Blaine’s chest as he lay on the grass sunning himself. Kurt sat beside him, fully clothed, under an umbrella reading Vogue. He liked the sun, but did not lay out in it. Over the passage of the day, they thinned out the contents of the picnic basket. The boys came down in the morning, tossed a ball about for a while. Well, Blaine ran around with Kurt’s wild throws and in return his nonathletic boyfriend mostly chases the bouncing ball. Over the past week they had no real alone time as family stuff rotated around summer jobs. At the moment, Kurt worked in a coffee shop while Blaine sang at a local amusement park as he had in years past.

“Blaine?” Kurt asks in a quiet tone.

“Yes, Kurt,” Blaine lazily answered. Having hiked his shorts up to his crotch, his skin had a slight reddish hue.

“Do we have to go?”

“We promised.”

“Yeah, but this is nice.” Kurt sighed and placed a hand on Blaine’s hot and naked shoulder.

Taking the hand, Blaine kissed it. “They’ll be expecting us.”

“But―”

“Kurt, you’ll get what you want.”

“And what is that?”

Blaine took one of Kurt’s fingers and seductively drew it into his mouth causing his boyfriend blushed. The dear boy still had issues with showing affection, especially in public and pulled his hand back suddenly. It scared Blaine too, but he wanted the whole world to see him with the sexiest boy in town. One afternoon, they happened across Sebastian on the football field and Blaine purposefully took Kurt’s hand in front of hundreds of people. The Warbler did not look all that happy as he continued to flirt with Blaine in front of Kurt. The two former Warblers no longer cared for Sebastian’s games because they found their strength. After the grandeur of their first night together, both of them fell into a comfortable existence. Their sexual appetites pulled them together, even though Kurt insisted on a schedule, naughty adventures happened.

Embarrassed, Kurt said in a hushed tone, “Blaine?”

“There’s no one around.” Wicked smile.

“There’s a bunch from Shawnee just around the bend.”

“They’re half a mile away.”

“And they―”

“Oh, Kurt, your bashfulness is so hot. I could just―”

“Blaine?” Kurt pulled his hand away.

Closing his eyes, Blaine smiled. “I love you my sweet, hung boy.”

Beat red, Kurt turned the page pretending to ignore his romantically bothersome and alluring boyfriend.

Looking up at through the slits of his eyes, Blaine caught his cute boyfriend’s hidden smile. Since then they had taken their relationship to the next step, they spoke about more personal things. Finally, Blaine began to understand his lover’s quirks, and while he did not like them all, he found most appealing. Kurt even talked Blaine into not shaving his chest, which worried Blaine did not really like the thin coating of hair. He soon learned the benefit, when Kurt would ever so gently run light fingers through it. One day, after he grudgingly let it grow back in, he leaned against Kurt, who softly played with the soft tufts. Something about having fingers run so lightly up and down his body that sent him over the top and Blaine twitched. Sinking into a sensation of arousing bliss, his face suddenly scrunched as he shot his load in his pants. 

The boys stopped at Kurt’s place to clean up before moving on. The former Warbler brought a change of clothes with him, then they left for the river in the morning. Burt and Carole welcomed Blaine into the family and gave him a place to go when his parents fought. Blaine made an impression on Kurt’s father that day he approached him on the subjects his son’s innocence about sex. Well, they boys were not officially together at that time it proved Blaine’s commitment, honesty and compassion. 

The boys never stayed the night at each other’s houses except that once. To be assertive Burt sat both of them down. He did not dictate, but allowed the two teenagers to work out the rules for themselves. Pam appeared more flexible and just wanted them to have a safe place to do the thing no one could now prevent. Daniel did not like Kurt nor the fact he caught the two boys holding hands or hugging on more than once. Regardless of appearances, Daniel sometimes let his feeling known and, on several occasions, Pam stepped in. Lately, Blaine’s father stayed away on Friday and Saturday nights, He also drew a firm line concerning any monkey business or sleep overs in his house. Thus Blaine a fair amount of time at the Hummel’s, where Pam joined them for dinner several occasions. Regardless of whose house they spend an evening, they parted about ten.

The lineup at Breadstix worried Kurt, but Blaine just marched right having seen Rachel and Finn in a booth by the window. Rachel beamed when she saw the boy’s step past the lady at the door. Pushing Finn out of the way, she went to give the boys hugs. Blaine shook Finn’s and the two step-brothers hugged when Kurt forced it upon Finn. After all, he had a crush on him before marriage made them related. When Blaine first heard, he got jealous. Later, especially after the blow up in front of the punching bag, Blaine learned to appreciate Finn.

Blaine slid into the horseshoe shaped booth first and instantly took Kurt’s hand as the both boys piled in behind him. Finn gave them with a funny look which Rachel barely noticed. In turn, Kurt gave his boyfriend a look which Blaine conveniently ignored.   
“Where’s Samcedes?” Kurt asked as he tried to pull his hand away, but relented when Blaine squeezed tighter.

Ensuring their hand remained hidden beneath the table out of view, Blaine peeked at his boyfriend. “Kurt?”

“Sam’s probably still getting his hair right,” Rachel commented with a chuckle.

They all laughed and then Finn’s head shot up. Sucking down his second drink, then smiled at the late arrivals as if relieved. Everyone one stood for hugs and then Samcedes occupied one end of the horseshoe, with Klaine sandwiched in the middle and Finchel on the end.

“What took you,” Rachel questioned. The self-proclaimed diva wore a light green dress which slowly she moved her away from the nineteen fifties look.

“I was running late,” Sam apologized with a slight blush to his cheeks.

Kurt chuckled. “The dye wasn’t right.”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand under-the-table.

“I don’t dye my hair,” Sam did not look happy as he defended himself.

Mercedes bobbed her head back and forth and searched for the waitress. “You look like you got some sun, Blaine.”

“Maybe a little too much,” Kurt dryly responded.

Blaine playfully replied. “All in the right places.”

Kurt blushed.

“Boys?” Mercedes cooed.

“Do we really―” Finn glanced away.

“They're cute,” Rachel defended the boys. “But you need to take care of yourself in the sun. You could get cancer.”

“Yes, mother.” Blaine smiled at Kurt and blew him a kiss. Kurt shied away.

“What did you two get up to today?” Rachel asked Sam even though her eyes followed Kurt’s reaction.

“Finn and I threw a football around for a while down at the school.” Sam grinned at the larger jock. “We need to keep our arms in shape.”

“Not that too,” Rachel glanced at Mercedes.

“You ran off at lunch, Sam,” Finn threw in without thinking.

Mercedes shrank into the bench.

“Good god, you sang to her again.” Rachel pressed with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Blaine tried not to roll his eyes because Rachel might have a great voice and talent, but she did not understand where a line should be drawn. Like most conceded people, it had to be all about her.

Shaking his head, Sam admitted, “Yes, I sang to Mercedes, again.”

Rachel beamed, and Finn’s face fell. 

“He has a nice voice,” Mercedes stated with a small, bashful smile.

“What is everyone going to do for the summer,” Kurt suddenly blurted out. The manner in which his fingers tightened about Blaine’s spoke of his discomfort.

“I got a job at Five Flags,” Blaine announced. 

“You worked there last year,” Finn muttered.

“And the year before. Hope I don’t have to play the singing pirate this year.” Blaine sipped his pop.

“Hot! I have to see that,” Kurt whispered as he beamed at his endearing boyfriend.

Blaine shrunk back, knowing all too well the game Kurt played. Under the table, he rubbed his thumb over Kurt’s baby soft hand wishing they had stayed at the river.  
.  
“We can make an afternoon of it,” Kurt excitedly called out.

Finn glanced to Sam shaking his head with a disapproving look on his face.

“I don’t think so. I’m spending my time getting ready for NYADA and I need Finn there to praise my every effort,” Rachel proudly announced. “Defying Gravity is great, or something from Yentl, Maybe Funny Lady. I really don’t know.”

“You’ll need a partner,” excited, Kurt jumped right in and then he suddenly looked at Blaine as if seeking support.

Finn looked relieved.

Weakly smiling, Blaine’s chest tightened. A few weeks ago, at a session with Emma Pillsbury, the school counselor, helped talk them out of their first real moment of heartbreak. For Blaine it centered about NYADA and the texting became a sorry side effect. He dreaded the day when Kurt would leave for New York leaving him pouty faced boyfriend alone. Burt and Carole reminded him there would always be a place at their table for him, but that did not ease his fears.

Blaine squeezed his lover’s hand and Kurt reciprocated. Kiddy corner to the boys, Finn looked a little upset all of sudden. Blaine noticed, but Rachel just went on about New York and Kurt excitedly dived in. Mercedes and Sam started to look at one another with goo-goo eyes, leaving Blaine and Finn to speak footballs. The night moved along as dinner came and went along with the ever-changing conversation.

“What’s next,” Finn asked as the waitress cleared the plates.

“There’s a sing along at the park,” Rachel enthusiastically said.

Kurt got excited. “Sound of Music is the best.”

“We can go to Bumpers,” Sam suggested.

“Bumpers?” Rachel asked with a tinge hardness to her voice.

“It’s a new underage dance place on the south side of downtown,” Mercedes eagerly replied.

Rachel’s eyebrows went up. “You’ve been there before?”

Sam blushed. “Yes.”

“It’s a fun place and no alcohol.” Mercedes chimed up.

“What do you think?” Blaine asked Kurt.

“But the Sound of Music sing along,” Kurt whined.

“I think it would be fun.” Finn glanced at Rachel and then formally asked, “Would you like to go dancing?”

The blossoming lady beamed, and Finn smiled as if he won something.

Kurt let out a puff of air and glanced at Blaine who grinned. Rolling his eyes, he conceded defeat. “Okay.”

“I’ve wanted to dance with you since―” Blaine cut himself off and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Since?” Rachel leaned forward with an impish look on her face as if saying, do tell?

Blaine bristled, and things did not go too well the last time. He presses his fingers into Kurt’s knowing he may have gone too far. They made a covenant they would not speak about that night in public. They often spoke about it in private and it happily stretched Kurt’s schedule.

A little while later, the three couples walked into Bumpers. The hulking, imposing African American doorman occupied most of the entrance where he consistently checked their identifications enforcing the fourteen to nineteen-year-old age limit. A long bar ran along one wall with raised boxes in the corners of the dance floor. Lights flashed across the mirrored walls, ceiling and floors where two dozen teens jumped about. Several gaggles of boys and girls stood about listening to loud music pounded into everyone’s chests. 

“This isn’t exactly Scandals,” Kurt pointed out to Blaine as he looked around.

Rachel gave Kurt an odd look. “Scandals?”

So much for their pact, thus Blaine just let it go. “No drag queens, disappointing.”

“Drag queens?” Finn questioned.

“It’s a gay bar on the other side of town,” Blaine answered without thinking. 

Finn gave Kurt an odd look and his half-brother shrunk away. Rachel and Mercedes stared at each other while Sam seemed amused.

“Let’s not get into it,” Kurt saved his lovely boyfriend.

“What exactly―” Rachel started.

Taking her hand, Finn cut Rachel off. “Let’s dance.”

The save left Blaine feeling relieved.

Waving at a few people, Mercedes took Sam’s hand and pulled him toward the dance floor behind Finchel. Suddenly she stopped and looked back at Kurt and Blaine, who just stood there. Blaine felt oddly uncomfortable. Walking over, Mercedes said, “Hey guys.”

Sam caught Finn and Rachel by the shoulder and now all their eyes fell the nervous couple. Making a face, Finn asked Kurt, “What’s up bro?”

Blaine looked at Kurt and a frown pulled his lips. 

“Well?” Finn asked again.

Blaine looked passed the Finn toward the dance floor and then, in all sincerity, he replied, “Do you think they’ll let us dance?”

“Of course,” Rachel said with an annoyed look.

Kurt looked at Blaine, who felt a finger brush against his. He said, “As a couple.”

“Oh?” Mercedes looked to Sam.

“Come off it,” Sam stepped forward. “We go out there as a group and just bounce around each other like we are just friends and nothing else.”

Finn gave the blond boy a look which made Blaine feel uncertain. Bumping his shoulders against his boyfriend’s, Blaine looked to Kurt with a sad, questioning look. Kurt nodded with a grin and the six of them hit the dance floor. An hour later, nearly two hundred teenagers packed the place. In the middle of it, a throng of six boogied about in one corner of the dance floor. The boys strutted their stuff about and the ladies loved it. Arms waving in the air, the entire group sang to the music.

It all worked out well until a group of teenaged boys nosily filed into through the front door with a flock of girls. They yelled and screamed as the pushed their way to the dance floor where they hogged the center taking it over. Shoving the younger teens out of the way, they loudly proceeded to enjoy themselves.

A few moments later, Kurt backed into a tall blond fellow wearing a Shawee football shirt. Spinning around his face went suddenly from ‘I am going to beat you up’ to amused. He yelled to his sycophants, “Hey, look. The faggot from the river.”

Shocked, Kurt stopped in his tracks. With Rachel standing in front of him, Blaine’s expression shift to, ‘how dare someone speak to him that way?’

“He’s needs his dress,” a tall teen snarled from behind a lanky brunette in a miniskirt and tank top. 

From off to one side, Finn stepped out in front of Blaine headed to his stepbrother. Separated from the rest of the party by two girls dancing with themselves, Sam and Mercedes stared.

“More faggots.” The football player sneered.

“They’ll let anyone in here,” a petite Chinese girl proclaimed.

“Fuck’n fag, go find some hole to hide in,” another Shawee football player growled at Kurt and then his friends laughed.

“Queens and queers,” another, a large framed boy called out as he joined his friends. He pushed the gorgeous blond he danced with aside.

“Look here,” Blaine danced about Finn, so he now stood beside Kurt. He glared up at the ogre standing over his boyfriend with hard, set eyes.

“Hey, guys, it’s the faggot’s faggot,” the blond Shawee quarterback laughed.

Pushing forward, Finn menacingly towered between Blaine and Kurt.

One of the other Shawee guys said, “Look, the queer quarterback of McKinley.”

One of the other Shawee footballers said to Finn, “You going to dance to win your second game, faggot!”

“Those must be lesbians.” One girl else joked and pointed at Rachel and Mercedes.

Finn lost it and raised his fist, but the Shawee quarterback moved faster. His arm came up swinging at the shorter man in front of him. Finn grabbed Blaine’s shoulder, pulling him back and at the same time a large fist smashed into Kurt’s cheek sending him spinning to the floor. The gang from Shawee laughed and cheered even as two of their dates suddenly looked mortified.

The bouncer rushed forward, pushing himself thought the crowd gathered on the floor. The lights came up and the music stopped and from behind the bar, another man ran into the fray. Someone else came out from a back room and pushed into the watching crowd.

In instinct Blaine threw a fist into the quarterback’s chest. The football easily sidestepped and took a swing at Blaine, who fluidly bounced away. The little guy took on a fighter’s stance.

Rachel, Sam and Mercedes pushed forward to Kurt pulling him away from the growing melee. Blood splotched the polished wooden floor and down his designer vest. Pressing his hand against his bloody lip, tears well up in his blue eyes.

One of the Shawee footballers laughed. “The faggot’s crying,”

Blaine launched himself at the quarterback who effortlessly stepped aside. Regardless of the rage pulsed in his veins, Blaine controlled himself, knowing if he stooped to their level, he would be no better.

“The little queer’s got spunk,” the linebacker barked as he turned to face Blaine.

“I will show you spunk, asshole,” Blaine stood in a boxer pose ready to spring just as Finn and then Sam stepped up beside him.

“Break it up,” a deep, gravelly voice yelled from the off to the right. The bouncer pushed himself into view positioning himself between the two groups. One of the bartenders weaved through the throng to join the owner joined the bouncer.

The Shawee quarterback growled at the bouncer who held his hands up in front of the jock, “You let fuck’n faggots in here.”

“Yeah, I’m here to see you shake the flat ass of yours,” Blaine yelled without releasing the tension in his muscles.

“Blaine?” Kurt called from the floor. 

Turning, Blaine’s anger abruptly diminished when he saw Rachel pressing her handkerchief to his cheek. Seeing his love kneeling between his best two gal pals, pulled at his heart. Then he saw Kurt’s eyes set on the quarterback and go wide. Suddenly he turned around as if he realized something. Glazing at the quarterback Blaine loudly asked, “Your Nick.”

“Yeah, what ‘a going to make of it faggot!” Nick snarled and then laughed.

“Bigoted asshole!” Blaine stepped closer.

The Shawee quarterback mirrored the motion and the bouncer put his arm our blocking the way.

“None of that,” owner growled, stepping toward Blaine.

Nick looked at the middle-aged man with contempt.

Blaine’s blood boiled, and he growled, “I hope you’re upset you homophobic prig. David lived.”

“The fucker should have died?” Nick barked.

“Hey, that’s enough. Now out with you,” the bouncer yelled at Nick.

“Hey, they’re the faggots?” Nick stood up to the big black man.

“So is my brother, you little pussy. Unless you want me to toss your virgin ass out that door, you get the hell out of here and don’t come back,” bouncer snarled as the muscular bartender backed his co-worker up.

Nick bristled and looked like he was about to take on the bartender. Then a small hand fell on his bicep and he suddenly looked down a beautiful blond girl angrily stared up at him. The tough bully shrunk down, then suddenly turned. At the last second, he swung back and glared at Blaine, “You haven’t seen the end of me, faggot.”

“Bring is on,” Blaine’s fist curled up.

“Out!” the bounced roared point toward the door.

“What about them?” one of the other Shawee football players harshly asked.

“Out, before I call the police,” the owner growled.

The throng from Shawee turned and left with four staff right behind them. Lingering behind, the little blond girl glanced back at Kurt, who huddled on the floor between Rachel and Mercedes. Her sad eyes apologized.

Drawing in a deep breath, Blaine shook. He had never even tried to hit anyone in life outside the ring. For a moment he felt numb and when emotion took over Blaine panicked. Pushing through his friends and onlookers, he slid to his knees beside Kurt. Without thinking, he took Kurt’s face in his hands and passionately kissed him. The room became silent and then the astonished onlookers clapped and cheered. For the rest of the night Kurt and Blaine danced as lovers should, in each other’s arms.


	13. Leaving

Tomorrow Burt would drive his son to the airport, and he would be gone, and the sentiment settled like sour milk in his stomach. Since he told Kurt he needed to spread his wings, Blaine regretted it. His heart sank, and it sometimes took hours to get to sleep. Deep down, he knew it had to be because watching Kurt at the Lima Bean and mopping around McKinley ate at both the souls. Blaine had no illusions tough days hovered just around the corner, but Kurt filled him in more ways than one. The way he walked turned Blaine on or the look when the boy found himself embarrassed cheered sunken spirits. Yes, selfish could describe him, but then who could avoid the word. Blaine knew he could not. 

Blaine woke feeling terribly apprehensive deep in his chest. Burt and Carole arranged a going away dinner and Kurt wanted it to invite the gang, but Burt insisted on just family which included the Andersons. The fact his father found an excuse, did not surprise Blaine. 

The day started in a café with friends and ended with the entire lot sitting about in one of the local parks. They laughed and told stories regardless of the air of sadness hovering over them like storm clouds. Blaine did not want to let go of Kurt and held his hand everywhere, slipped his arm about him or just held him close. Kurt eagerly reciprocated as a subdued melancholy affected them both. Yes, they talked and had no illusions of what faced them. Kurt would go find Rachel and Blaine, well, he had to go back to suffer through another year of high school. They blocked off times for Skype and Blaine planned for a trip once a month. Money hindered his aspirations and Daniel would not flip the bill for him to run off for a weekend of hot, boy sex. As the hours ticked by, Blaine fretted what a year apart would feel like. 

Kurt dropped Blaine off at his place and the boys sat there in the car for a while holding hands. Blaine silently trembled as his mind tumbled with thoughts, regrets and a the logical consequences of deep emotions. At one moment he wanted to burst into tears and others, he felt joyously happy. Someone once said, love is both and this day Blaine knew he felt nothing but love.

“It won’t be that bad,” Kurt gazed at his beautiful boyfriend with sad eyes.

A puff of air escaped Blaine’s lips. “This is . . . going to be so . . . hard.”

“You make me hard.” Impish grin.

Squeezing his lover’s hand, Blaine’s head droop as the overwhelming emotion took him. “Thank you.”

“Blaine, I love you. Nothing is going to change that.”

“I love you too, Kurt. I always will. But―”

“No buts, Blaine. You will always be in my life. Besides, you’re coming over for dinner.”

“I know but it―”

Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine melting unsettling feelings. Pressing into the firmness of the kiss, Blaine did not want to let go but he had to. Pulling away, he attacked his boyfriend with a multitude of little kisses. Finally, a hand pushed on the door handle and melancholy, puppy eyes stared at Kurt as Blaine got out of Carole’s car. Kurt sold his to have enough money to live on while looking for work. The car did not move right away as Kurt sat there gazing at Blaine. Then came the engine roared and Blaine’s heart fell.

Turning, Blaine’s heart froze when he noticed his father stood there in the garage leering. The look on Daniel’s face told his son everything and Blaine just no longer cared. In two hours, he would be at the Hummel’s proudly celebrating Kurt’s big move and trying to keep it altogether. It stood as a chance for his father to finally show he could be a caring dad, but Blaine saw odious excuses. Holding back tears, Blaine squared his shoulders and walked on. 

A second later, his mother opened the door and looked to her husband saying something. His face went hard, and he abruptly went back to sorting tools. 

To everyone’s surprise Cooper called and hearing his eldest son’s name Daniel picked up the garage phone cutting in. Amazingly, his eldest son told his father he had called to speak to Blaine and only Blaine. This stunned his little brother and irritated their father.

Settling in on the couch, Blaine curled his legs up underneath him while his older brother droned on about the movie shot. Regardless, hearing Cooper’s voice made him feel much better. The younger Anderson tried to control his emotions, but they touched his voice and his brother knew it. Then raised voices intruded as their parents started to argue. The words coming from the kitchen did not surprise either child, and thankfully, a slamming door marked the end of an awkward moment. 

“Blaine don’t let him get to you,” Cooper’s passion echoed over the phone breaking the silence.

Hesitating, Blaine looked into the silent kitchen suddenly understanding his mother had arranged Cooper’s call. Warmth swelled in his chest.

“Are you alright, Blaine?” the older brother asked.

Hesitation and then Blaine said, “Coop, I don’t know what to think? It’s . . . so―”

“My little brother’s really in love.”

“I adore him.”

“I saw that when met him. He is a special person though maybe a little odd, but special.”

Blaine laughed, and his mood brightened. “Coop, I needed that.”

“Dad’s making it hell, right?” Cooper’s voice had a hint of anger.

An audibly heavy breath roared through Blaine’s nostrils. “He hates Kurt. He hates me.”

“I might have an ego of the Empire State Building, but I’m not blind. I saw lots when I was there last. God’s what an ass.” Cooper fell silent as if he spoke to someone else. “Blaine, I do not have all that much time left. I have a big scene coming up.”

“Kill them,” Blaine demanded of his brother.

“You’ve found someone to love and I mean really love. I live in a town where people change lovers like underwear and wow, you two ooze it. This thing you two have is the real thing transgressing distance and time. You will make it, Blaine. It may not always be easy, but you two will make it. I‘ve not always been a good brother, but listen to me now. Don’t let him go, little brother.”

Tears ran down Blaine’s face as he looked up to see Pam standing in the door with red eyes for a different reason. Sniffling Blaine said, “Cooper, I―”

“Blaine, listen. I’ll make you a deal. Make your life with your sweetie, kill them on Broadway and I will be in the front row cheering. Just remember you have a brother how loves you for who you are and what you are. No one can take that away. Just tell the old man to fuck off.” Cooper paused again and Blaine could hear voices in the background. “Kurt, I have to go. If you ever need me, call. If you need somewhere to live, I have a couch. You and Kurt will always be welcome at my door.”

Beaming, Blaine said in a shaky voice, “Thanks big bro, you’re the best.”

Click. Typical Cooper, no good-bye. 

Blaine stared at the house phone and then up at his mother with tears streaming down his cheeks. Pam came over and cradled her son.

Years later, Blaine recounted that conversation at his famous brother’s funeral. In the modern age, he held onto Kurt’s hand and glanced at his watch. Bad traffic would delay Mary giving him twenty minutes at best. Not enough time he bit his lip as a tear rolled down his cheek. Back then he wished his dad could have found the bravery to be a true father, but in that moment, the dinner hovered on his soul as the most important thing in his life. Pam knew this and tenderly comforted her son. 

Two hours later, Pam and Blaine stood on the threshold of the Hummel residence. She held her son’s nervous hand, she reached out ringing of the doorbell and the sound seared through Blaine’s heart. On pins and needles since they left the house, he wondered if he could he do this? His heart soared even if the seas, they navigated hurt so much. Yes, he intended to make the best of it including wearing one of Kurt’s favour Blaine outfits. Regardless of a warmth of the early October evening, he wore a dark blue blazer with a mustard coloured vest over a dark green shirt. The red, blue and yellow bow tie Kurt has given him for his birthday almost choked him. To his mother’s wonder he had not gelled his hair down into a helmet. Instead, it fluffed up in a controlled style not as wild as the night of Kurt’s senior prom when Brittany forced him to wash the gel out. The look on Kurt’s face had been horror at first and then pride, but as scared as Blaine had been, gentle, loving words gave him confidence. That night, they made love in a most unconventional place. 

Suddenly Kurt’s smiling face appeared in the crack in the door and Blaine beamed. The door flew back and with a squeal he threw himself at Blaine giving him a huge hug. Pam stood there holding a bottle of wine with a loving smile on her face. Just inside the door, Burt and Carole watched with their arms wrapped around each other. Peeling herself away from Burt, Carole greeted Pam taking the wine and giving her a gentle hug. Burt stood there welcoming their guests as he tried to herd them from the doorway. 

Lively chattered filled the kitchen, where all the best parties ended up. Streaks dripped juices onto hot coals and a fresh salad waited in the fridge. Kurt spent part of the afternoon making dainty finger foods and an interestingly tasting punch. He chose music which the two boys sang together while Pam and Carole puttered about in the kitchen quietly talking. They both looked to the boys with serious, concerned faces. At some point Burt joined in but the boys did not seem to notice. Lost in each other, they hid on brave faces, though Blaine knew they died inside. 

“Kurt, you’ll have a great time,” Blaine bravely commented while walking to the end of the backyard holding hands. Kurt wore a patterned gray shirt with an off-white vest and bright green pants. He looked dreamingly hot.

“Will Rachel be happy to see me,” Kurt’s voice shook.

Blaine looked surprised. “You’ve not told her?”

Kurt shook his head. 

“Kurt? Well, think of the surprise. She has been putting on a valiant face, but you can hear it in her voice. She lonely and scared.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

“I would love to be there.”

Kurt turned to Blaine drawing him into a hug. “I wish I could pack you in my suitcase.”

The fussy haired boy grinned. “I’d fit.”

Kurt chuckled and then kissed his lover. “You’re so cute, and, oh, how I love you.”

“You told me once you would never say goodbye . . . this isn’t goodbye, is it?”

“God’s no, Blaine, never. You fill me in ways I can’t imagine.”

Evil grin. “Later.”

Kurt blushed and then leaned in for a kiss as they wrapped around each other. Hugging, both boys shook.

“Kurt, I have something for you.” Blaine reached into his pocket.

“Another promise ring,” Kurt bounced about.

“No.” Blaine handed his boyfriend a little jeweler’s box.

Holding his breath, Kurt stared at Blaine. He looked afraid for a moment, but after he opened it, he beamed. Inside the little white box sat a simple golden stylized pin with a small diamond glistened where the letters ‘KB’ scrolled into each other. Lips quivering, Kurt threw his arms about Blaine drawing him into a passionate kiss.

As they slowly twirled about, Blaine felt Kurt fiddling with his pocket. He thought, not here. Instead, he pulled out a small velvet pouch and handed it to Blaine. The shorter boys smiled. “Oh, Kurt, you didn’t have to.”

“Neither did you but―” A warm smile spread Kurt’s lips. “Blaine you’re everything to me. I hope you know that?”

“Every inch of me knows.”

“Now, there’s an idea.”

Blushing, Blaine looked at the little pouch. Pulling at the string Kurt dumped a golden bracelet fell into Blaine’s palm. Smiling, Blaine leaned his head into Kurt’s and drew in a deep breath. “It’s lovely.”

Picking it up, Kurt placed it around Blaine’s right wrist. “This is for my love. I promise to love you always. To always remember your birthday. To give you flowers on Valentine’s Day. To answer your every call and to send you dirty pictures―”

“Of you?”

“Of me.”

“Kurt, you surprise me.”

“Blaine, you once told me I moved you. Well, you are the summit of my mountain. When I look up at the moon, I see your eyes.”

Once more the boys hugged, their lips searching. 

“Boys . . . dinner,” Burt called from the deck. The adults moved about the outdoor table setting things down.

Both looked toward the house and then they smiled. Taking the pin out, Kurt asked his love placed it on his vest just over his heart. Likewise, Kurt affixed the bracelet to Blaine’s wrist followed by a chaste kiss. Grasping Blaine’s hand, they walked toward the table and sat next to one another. Their parents settled in about them making it look like the jury watched from across the table. Everyone seemed serious as Burt poured wine for them all garnering a surprised looked from Kurt.

Before anyone could reach for their glasses, Blaine picked his up and said, “To Kurt, may all your dreams come true in New York.”

Kurt beamed and his face flushed. 

“To Kurt,” the adults said as their glasses gently tapped and Blaine squeezed his boyfriend’s hand under the table. 

Hazel eyes fell upon the teen next to him and holding the gaze Blaine soaked every last inch of Kurt into him. The hair over his ears, the scar on his neck and the way his nose twitched when he laughed became hard coded. Keeping a brave face, he already missed Kurt. Tomorrow that hand would be gone and all he would have fit into a small computer screen at night. He stealthily secured a few articles of Kurt’s unwashed clothing, so he could remember his scent. He hid them in a drawer in a plastic bag, and while he thought it a bit weird but, he did not know what else to think. He wanted to bury himself in Kurt but knew he could not. 

A foot touching his under the table made the Blaine blink. His mother gave him a tiny smile and Blaine melted into the chair. She had been there for him through the end of September when everything started to happen. His father loved the idea of the two boys being split up and verbally hoped Blaine could finally get past this phase and find himself a nice girl. Blaine spat back and Daniel almost hit him again. His mother stood firm and Dad slept away from home for three nights. 

He hated what tomorrow night would bring because his dad beaming in victory and a lonely existence loomed full in his face. Even though Kurt would be with Rachel, Blaine knew his lovely boyfriend would be as sad as he would be. The excitement of the day would wear off as reality settled in leaving a hole in his heart. Blaine did not understand what to do while he anxiously waited for the appointed hour and their first Skype meeting. Cooper said he would call, and Mercedes, Sam, Kitty and Tina planned to drag Blaine out to get his mind off things.

“Hey,” someone called from the kitchen. “Good, I didn’t miss it.”

“Finn?” Kurt blurted out with a big smile on his face.

“Hey bro, the beginning of your life,” Finn trotted forward, giving his sitting step brother a big hug from behind.

The words struck Blaine in the center of the chest and he fought to keep it all in. Looking up at Finn he noted how the jock put on a brave face—he missed Rachel and would miss Kurt. Blaine wondered if he would have the same mournful face in the morning and what a year alone would bring. Running his thumb across the back of Kurt’s hand, he pushed the thought away. All he wanted to go to the airport, but chemistry and math tests blocked his ambitions.

Slapping Burt on the shoulder and then scooting down to hug his mom, Finn suddenly turned back to Blaine. Pulling him up, he drew Blaine into a bear hug, he bent down, and whispered into the shorter teenager’s ear, “We’ll survive this together.”

The words shocked Blaine because he and Finn grew to like each other, but he never expected such sentiment. All he could do was to slap Finn on the back. 

While still holding on to Blaine, Finn placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Kurt, Blaine, I have learned so much from you two. That night in Bumpers―”

Burt flashed Finn a look.

“If anyone bugs you again, I’ll be the first in their face.” Finn finished. The meaning flew over his Burt’s head, but Blaine caught it. 

“Me, second,” Pam put her hand up.

“We all will,” Carole added.

A puzzled look pulled at Burt’s brows and then his face lit up. 

Letting Blaine go, Finn stepped around the table, hugged Pam and sat while Burt topped up his wineglass. Picking it up, Finn looked at Kurt and smiled. “To my brother from another mother. I love you bro.”

“Kurt,” everyone responded.

Finn added, “And to Blaine, you’re a good friend, and much more to Kurt. Strength and courage.”

Kurt and Blaine exchanged looks as several glasses clinked. Dinner rolled on through easy stages and the conversation circled around New York and Rachel’s latest stories. Finn talked to her less than an hour before, thus, his tardiness. He assured Kurt he said nothing to her and that none of their friends had.

“Kurt, your mother and have a little something for you.” Burt interrupted the casual conversation by offering his son an envelope. 

Taking it, Kurt turned it over with scrunched up brows.

“It’s an open-ended return ticket.”

“Dad?”

“Kurt, New York is a big place and is not for everyone. If you don’t like it your bed will always be here regardless of your sticky notes.”

Kurt laughed and a tear glistened in the corner of his eye. 

Some part of Blaine wanted Kurt to use it, but his heart said no. Kurt caught the New York bug when a kiss disqualified the New Directions. Blaine just wished he had been there to experience that first with Kurt while brooding about what first he would miss. 

Burt amused everyone by telling stories of Kurt when he first caught him playing with his mom’s clothes. Kurt blushed, and people laughed even though Blaine saw the sorrow in those blue eyes. Kurt missed his mom. Life became hard for the boy’s father forcing him to ‘man up’ as Finn would say. Now his son blazed his own path and then it veered off in a different direction. The testament to that wide left-hand turn sat beside Kurt holding his hand beneath the table. Blaine became a member of the family and his older self recalled the sex talk in the garage, the joys of children and a break up. His father-in-law flying Blaine to New York for Christmas and the news he shared sealed the bond. The one chat Blaine remembered the most came in the form of an innocent conversation the day of their wedding. Over time, Burt became the father Blaine never had.

As the evening drew on, Blaine’s heart grew tighter as the hour of doom drew near. Seven in the morning would come too soon forcing the boys drifted into long bouts of silence. Sorrow radiated in lovely blue eyes and Blaine tried not to cry. Pam stood, and Carole walked her to the front door. Looking at Kurt, Blaine awkwardly drew himself up and Kurt automatically came up with him. Both boys looked miserable.

“Blaine, sit,” Pam suddenly said, her eyes shining brightly with firm intent.

Stopped in his tracks, Blaine stared. 

Proud of her son, Pam strolled over and gave him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. Looked to Kurt, she gave him a tender kiss on the forehead. Turning back, she said, “Blaine, my gift to you and Kurt is his night together. Burt and Carole have graciously consented to allow the two of you stay. I’ll be by in the morning to drive you to school.”

Blaine just stared as his hand tightened about Kurt’s. Then he looked to Burt, who nodded with a warm smile on his face. Awkward moments followed and then Kurt hugged Pam at the door, shedding tears all over her blouse. Blaine hugged his mother as only a son could and then kissed her. She patted him on the cheek and fondly looked at him. When she turned to leave, Blaine knew she went home to another fight. The looks from Burt and Carole said they knew.

No one spoke about it, but the hint came when Finn said he needed to get some sleep. The ex-football player drew his brother and Blaine into a group hug before climbing the stairs. Burt and Carole followed not long after. They looked back at the boys sitting on the couch facing each other. Blaine noticed Carole stop and wipe her eyes. Burt pulled her close and stirred her up the stairs.

Elderly Blaine remembered the two sitting there for a while, hugging and holding hands. Neither spoke because their eyes said everything. Finally, Kurt stood, dragging Blaine with him into a soft hug. In loving silence, they retreated to Kurt’s bed where they relived a special moment – their first time together.


	14. Regret and Pain

Three days later Blaine got up the nerve to call New York—no answer. Two hours after that he tried again and still nothing. Text messages came back as blocked for days and now he sat there overflowing with emotion—shit, he had really done it. Releasing the stale air coincided with a tear rolling down his cheeks. The pounding in his ears deafened and the thumping in his chest hurt like hell. Curling up on the bed, he folded his knees up to his chest and cried.

Life swirled within a cloud of darkness, regret and recrimination. How could he be so stupid? How could be so weak? He could have backed away. The heart screamed at him the moment he door opened, but longing need drew him into the spider’s den. Sentiment flew in all directions, but he wanted this? No, he needed this? No, was it revenge? Revenge for what―a mislaid perception?

He knew living apart would be tough. They talked about it at length while holding each other as one or both cried. It scared Blaine to think he may slowly lose Kurt and he ended up that way in the most dramatic terms. The young man he flirted with could not be faulted, but that did not repress the seething guilt Blaine endured. He fooled himself into thinking it would be the same as Kurt.

How does he explain it to the man he had crushed? He tried with flowers, a song, but it still tumbled in heated words. How could Blaine have imagined a nameless person could replace Kurt? The night his love left for New York, Blaine did not close his eyes because he wanted to hard code ever moment, look, gesture and grunt. His mind took it all in, every last great inch, the way his prostate vibrated and the delightful sounds Kurt made. To go on with his dirty deed, Blaine kept his eyes tightly shut as he immersed himself in the memory Kurt. In his mind, that stranger became Kurt, and he fell into the situation hook like and sinker. Only after climax and the strange sensation of latex rubbing against his sphincter, did it all come booming down on him. Bile rose in his throat and then pulled away from his innocent accomplish feeling like some thrifty hoar. 

Curled into his pillow, the distraught teen literally jumped out of his skin when his phone rang. Fumbling with the pillow he had been hugging he reached and knows the device to the floor. Rolling close to the edge he reached down and froze—Cooper. The heart instantly splashed into the pit of his stomach and he hesitated. When the answering service clicked in Blaine’s head smashed against the edge of the bed with a loud groan. Grabbing the pillow, he hauled up to his chest and squeezed tight. 

The phone rang again and again, and it went ignored. Crawling up toward the headboard Blaine pulled the pillow up over his head covering his ears. He did not want to do this because part of him wanted everything will work out. Who did he kid, nothing went right? The chest drew tight with regret, but not because of Cooper. He desperately wanted it to be someone else.

The fifth time proved lucky for his brother because Blaine just gave up trying to be stubborn. Swiping up, Blaine groaned in a low, silent tone. “Hey Coop.”

“Hey little bro,” Cooper’s voice sounded soft and filled with emotion. “Are you alright. Mom told me what happened.”

Hanging off the side of the bed, Blaine’s throat constricted and then he started to cry. Hugging the phone to his ear, the teenager wanted to hang up, but the breathing on the other end spoke to his heart in a manner he needed at this time.

“Blaine?” Cooper pleaded in a hushed tone.

Again, no answer from Blaine other than sniffles.

“Oh, my little Blaine.” Cooper fell quiet as if he considered something.

A low moan escaped Blaine’s throat, followed by more sniffles. 

“You have always been a bit of a wimp,” Cooper bluntly stated over the phone. “I have to sing for my dinner in one scene. I got myself a stint on the Young and the Restless as a visiting businessman. It could lead to a break for men. I’m supposed to cause problems with―”

Blaine rolled back onto the bed, drawing the pillow to him again. 

“Come on, Blaine, your big bro can really use your help. There’s a dog in the scene.” Cooper’s tone had a hint of helplessness in it. “When you were ten, you would do anything to belt out a sound even if you sounded like a howling dog.”

Holding the phone close to his mouth, Cooper received a long intake of shaky air from his brother.

“You squeaked like a chipmunk when your voice changed. Do you remember when I recorder your singing and broadcast it over your school’s speakers. It was so funny.” Cooper laughed, a good fake laugh. “You were such a short little thing at that time. They called you munchkin, but I liked calling you a Smurf. When I put blue cool aide in―”

Guilt and anger crossed the line and Blaine felt like throwing the phone across the room. Lashing out he roared into the phone. “Why the fuck did you call me, Coop! To get in a few . . . Jesus Coop, you just called to give me a fucking bad time for the sake of being an asshole. Go back to your toe sucking―”

The door suddenly swung open, causing Blaine to set up in the bed. Shocked, Blaine could hear his brother rambling on in the background. Holding the phone inches from his ear, the teenager glared at his father, knowing he had been listening at the door. He shrunk into the bed with the phone held in white fingers. 

Daniel stood there with a superior look on his face as if he had been laughing. With a happy hint to his tone he growled, “None of that language, under my roof . . . pussy.”

“Daniel?” Pam called from across the hall.

At the same time, Blaine screamed at his father. “Just fuck off dad. Just fuck right off!"

With a hard face, Daniel glowered at his son and the slammed the door. Within seconds raised voice filtered through the wooden entrance from across the hall. Sadness stuck and Blaine started to cry again. The hearty laugher over the phone caused Blaine to blink as the anger he once felt fell away. His head drooping, the sound of his snickering brother both irritated and pleased. Now that rational thought took over, he knew what his brother had attempted to do. Only then did Blaine chuckle and then two brothers joked, and, in the end, Blaine understood Cooper had his best interests at heart.

Unfortunately, raising spirits usually held for a short moment before reality struck. Alone with his thoughts and desires the upheaval continued. On top of everything it had become clear an open rift had erupted between man and wife. Daniel became more an ass and not only to his son, but his mother as well. It only drove a saddened heart further into the swamp as his world became dark and his moods more erratic. 

School went by in a blur as his friends gave him platitudes, well, except Sam. The blond became a shadow, his shoulder to lean on and someone to spill his guts to. It proved hard for the pouty blond to keep Blaine above water with stupid impressions and jokes, but he earnestly tried. Now and then Blaine laughed and kidded back, then, they would walk by something and a moment of relief washed away like old dishwater. 

A call from Santana started well but soon degenerated into a mess. Thank god Sam sat nearby to save Blaine from going off the deep end. To be honest, she had phoned in all innocence to see how Blaine held up. Sam had to take the phone from Blaine because Kurt’s voice suddenly sounded off in the background. He obviously just got home. Blaine made demands which Santana tried to avoid. In the end, the night turned into a wash of tears.

Sitting in a chair in the music room made Blaine miserable as simple songs easily brought tears to his eyes. Deeply concerned, Mr. Schuester arranged for Blaine to meet regularly with Ms. Pillsbury. Blaine thought little of those sessions finding it better to talk to Cooper. The older brother understood his sibling’s despair, having been through the ringer a couple of times. Cooper even admitted he ran off to Las Angeles to get away from the family dynamic. Again, he offered his younger brother a place on his couch, but Blaine knew running would settle nothing.

The New Directions performance of Grease came and went. Burying himself the role, he trooped through it like a professional even though he almost lost it on stage. Rachel proved polite but Kurt, understandably, got upset and did not allow Blaine to express himself. Watching Kurt storm off cracked his heart because Kurt’s dismissal of everything seemed overly harsh but also so real. 

Seeing those sweet blue eyes and the hurt in them brought it all crashing down for Blaine. The fire had died and only a storm remained. Pam rocked her sobbing son to sleep while his dad nursed his fourth double scotch in the living room. Blaine wailed about never wanting to go on stage again and his mother, as all mothers would, listened and waited. Curling up beside him as she had a decade before she brushed the mounds of hair from his forehead. Resting her hand over his heart, she told her distraught son never to give up on his dreams. Blaine had talent and a kind soul and at that point he knew he had to be strong.

One rainy day Blaine walked through the mall doing an errand for his mother. The escape pleased him because even his bedroom constantly reminded him of lost love. A few of his clothes still hung in the closet and a picture sat beside the bed where it had been since they first made it official. Now and then he would go to the closet just to sniff one of Kurt’s sweaters. He considered getting rid of them, but then he could not. Shame encased him in a course blanket which did not let him forget, while sliver of hope glistened faintly on the horizon out of reach. 

Fearing the darkness in his heart rattled Blaine the most. At one time he feared romance and now he found the graved it. What occurred had nothing to do with romance, but that base need Kurt had awoken in him. Taking advantage of it turned out to be a slap in the face Blaine now regretted with all his heart. Long talks at ‘their rock’ and everything he held dear lay dashed in the waves against its strong base. Would he recover from this? Would they?

It seemed he wandered aimlessly with a list rattling somewhere within his head. The stores and people seemed to wash into each other making no sense. The heaviness in his heart resonated up his body with every jolt of his heels hitting the hardness of the floors. Kids ran around him at one point and he did not really notice. Lost in a fog, he waited for the beacon to drag him away. 

“Blaine?” a voice suddenly interrupted from behind.

Lost in thought, Blaine slowly turned to find Carole standing there with a hint of concern etching lines into her face. Seeing Kurt’s stepmother dredged up all sorts of feelings many Blaine had not expected. Drawing in a shaky breath, he knew Burt and Carole must be upset themselves. What had Kurt told them? Did they swear when they heard Blaine’s name? Father and son would forever be close, thus Burt had to know of his failings. 

The boy’s heart sank as his eyes went down to his shoes. Part of him wanted to run, but he could not be rude to Carole. Regardless of the circumstance he liked Burt and Carole, they accepted him into their family in so many ways. The Hummel's even assisted his mother when she needed a shoulder to cry on. 

“Oh,” Carole said in a soft and gentle tone laced with sadness. “I’ll leave you, dear.”

Shaking his head, Blaine pulled gathered his nerve and sighed. “No, it’s good.”

“Really?” A painful shadow crossed over Carole’s eyes.

Her expression harried Blaine’s already fragile emotions. Biting his lips, he replied, “Yes . . . well, no. My squabbles have nothing to do with you or Burt.”

“But they do, Blaine. Kurt’s my stepson,” Carole bluntly stated.

The heart in a young man’s chest banged into his ribs and for a second, he felt faint.

Shoulders sagging, she compassionately asked, “Would you like a coffee?”

Swallowing hard, Blaine grinned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” The answer came immediately and decisively. 

Hesitating, Blaine managed to give Carole a charming grin. “Then, I would love one.”

Nodding, Carole led Blaine down the wide, covered mall to one of the chain coffeehouses and neither said a word until Carole insisted on paying. Standing in line proved awkward. Images of Kurt in the Lima Bean bounced within the Blaine’s head. Choking back a would-be sob he fought to keep his composure in front of Carole. 

Turning away from the counter, Carole handed Blaine a ceramic mug. Steering the teen toward a secluded table off in a corner, she asked, “How are you holding up, dear?” 

The words bumbled through Blaine’s and he almost stumbled. She kept calling him dear. Considering all that had happened, it boggled the mind.

“Blaine?” Carole slowed and looked back

“I’m alright, thank you, Mrs. Hummel.” Blaine sped up, but inside he frantically wanted to get the hell out of there. Sweat rolled down his back and he found it easier to breathe in short bursts.

“Mrs.?” Carole’s face contorted. 

Feeling ashamed, Blaine winced. “Sorry, Carole.”

“I can understand how hard this is for you, Blaine.” Carole pulled out a chair for him. The table she selected had a view of the entrance, but sat against the wall. “Sit and tell me how you’re really doing?”

“Honestly, I’m fine.” Blaine sat down a little bit suddenly and the pain showed on his face. He sipped his coffee finding it hot while trying to hide his look.

Carole smiled as only a knowing mother could. “Blaine, it’s brave of you to try, but I know better.”

A sigh escaped the boy’s lips and he looked down at the steam rising from his mug. Emotion bellowed up within his chest he could not stop himself from sniffling. Without looking at Carole he said in an almost silent voice, “Okay . . . I’m miserable.”

“Blaine?” Her hand fell on the boy’s forearm. 

Glancing up a tear rolled down his cheek and Blaine choked on his breath. His head drooped, and he smelled coffee, causing a sharp pain in his chest. An old man felt it as well, but in a very different way. Unlike that day, the heart protected by his ribs did not fail. The pain came from the flash of guilt mixed with acceptance. The act, which led to all this state, had been hurtful, and in no way spiteful. Neither knew then, what old Blaine understood now. Kurt had called them young and it turned out to be so true. Neither knew how to handle what they walked into and the way the universe pulled at them. They lived in the rawest and dearest manner where logic remained lost in the fog yelling warnings. Blaine felt that warning when he looked at the message from a complete stranger on the phone. He always felt the yearnings of a young body which so desperately missed the touch of the man his heart ached for. The moment forever changed both teen making them two men destined to share a life together.

More than seventy years ago, Blaine knew nothing of this. He fumbled through his despair with help from friends and loved ones. On this fateful day, he stared at the woman who would become his mother-in-law and admitted, “God’s Carole, I fu . . . screwed it all up.” 

Carole’s brows pressed together as she pushed the plate with the cookies on it across the table. Thick white icing covered the big round morsels.

Lips curling in and Blaine suddenly deflated. “Kurt loved these.”

“He still does.” Carole did not look apologetic.

“But not if I took him one.”

“Blaine, listen to me. I do not know what happened between you two, but let’s just say you’re not the only one that’s hurting.”

“Carole, I―”

“No, Blaine. It’s not all you. My son is learning a hard lesson right now that I hope will cause him to swallow his pride.”

“He did nothing.”

“Are you claiming he’s perfectly innocent in all this?”

Biting his tongue, Blaine stared at Carole because, until now, he had not truthfully considered that. Guilt smashed his reality, creating a marinade of complicated and painful emotions. Sitting back, the colour drained from his unshaven face and his hands came together on his lap. His thumbs rubbed over the bracelet he had been given as he blankly stared at Carole. All those missed or dropped calls and his indifference during their Skype sessions echoed in Blaine’s head compounding distraught sentiment. Lost in his own sorrows he had forgotten what had driven him to fail the most important test in his short life.

Shaking his head, Blaine looked glanced out the windows and into the parking lot where the rain fell. When he left it lightly dribbled down and now it poured reminding him of the sorrow in his heart. Sitting with Carole brought his failure home and he did not know if he could continue with the pain he endured. His mind told him others had felt like this before him and will long after he no longer walked this world. At the moment, his world felt small and crumbly leaving a stain on his heart. 

“Blaine, it takes two to make a mess.” Carole added. “I’ve been around a lot longer than you. As you age will learn to settle your differences and compromise. You two are stubborn, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be in love.”

Low and painful emotions resonated through Blaine’s chest and into his limbs. The throat constricted, and water pushed out from behind his eyes. 

“Dear,” Carole leaned forward and placed a hand softly on Blaine’s. “Can you do me a favour.”

Blaine gave her his full attention even though it proved hard. “I’ll try.”

“Learn from your mistakes.”

“But I hurt him.”

“He neglected you?”

“What?”

“Kurt will be pissed at me if he found out I talked to you, but I don’t care.” Carole sighed and leaned back with a hard face. “Blaine, I saw him three days ago. He’s being a jerk. He’s become caught up in the hype and gossip. He’s ignored his father and me ever since he went to New York. He hung up on Burt with some flimsy excuse, so I can only assume he hung up on you. I went there to give his inflated head a shake out.”

Blaine gulped his coffee because he had not expected Carole to be so forthcoming. Her tone told Blaine the visit had not been a good one.

“That boy needs to grow up admit he mis―” Carole suddenly cut herself off and shook her head.

A dropped word, even two letters meant so much, Blaine blinked. “He . . . misses me?”

Carole’s face drooped. “Honestly, Blaine we did not talk about you . . . too much.”

Blaine pouted.

Patting the teen’s hand, she said, “He’s human and he hurts but he―”

“What?” Blaine leaned forward. Desperation laced his husky tone.

Biting her lip, Carole looked uncomfortable. “Blaine, please, do not read too much into this . . . I can see it in his eyes . . . he’s still in love with you.”

The teen's jaw dropped as brown eyes with sparkling amber highlights held Carole’s gaze. He still loved him? Unbelievable.

“Blaine?” Carole patted his hand. “The two of you hit a pothole. Just give him and yourself time.”

The boy sighed, and he downed his coffee. Putting the cup down, Blaine’s eyes misted over. “It hurts so much.”

“I knew dear.” Carole looked distant. “I know.”


	15. Costumes

“Come on Blaine, it’ll be fun,” Tina pleaded. She sat at the cafeteria table with a good portion of the Glee gang. Dressed in green and blue she looked every part a woman. The sandwich on her plate had been half eaten and now she picked at her fries.

They had been hounding him for half an hour now and he just did not want to do it. His head drooped, and Blaine moaned, “I don’t know.”

Artie looked across the table at the heartbroken teen. The plate before him had a hardy helping of fries and a sandwich. “It’ll be fun.”

“We’ve been to Bumpers lots.” Sam gave Blaine a puppy dog look. “You’ve always enjoyed yourself.”

“But . . . he―” Blaine choked on his words. The dark red and black bow tie set against a black shirt and blue sweater fit his mood. Last night he did not sleep well. Cooper called and now he had no doubt his parents slowly spiralled toward a word which tore at his heartstrings—divorce.

“You have to start living at some point,” Artie gave his friend a weary gaze as he waved a speared tomato at Blaine.

Kitty sat back, pushing her salad from one side of the plate to the other. “A night of fun is what we . . . you need.”

“Mercedes might even be in town.” Artie popped the tomato in his mouth giving Blaine a determined look.

“Look, bro,” Sam placed a hand on Blaine’s forearm. He sat beside the forlorn friend as he often did these days.

Tina injected with a grin. “It’s a Saturday night pre-Halloween blast.”

“No school the next day or parents saying you have to be in bed by whatever time.” Kitty’s eyebrows mischievously pushed up.

“It will be a fun night to blow off steam.” Artie bounced about in his wheelchair.

“I was thinking of going all punked out,” Tina injected before popping a fry in her mouth.

“Figgins still cringes,” Brittany chimed in as she stuffed part of a hotdog in her face. Sitting close to Artie, she daydreamed as usual.

Tina rolled her eyes at Brittany and then said, “I’ll figure something out.”

“Look, Blaine,” Sam reached up, he pulled at the hoodie pulling up over his head and made a gangster like impression. “We’ll be going as a group of hoods.”

Blaine chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know guys. There’s memories there.”

Looking up from the end of the table where a textbook lay open, Marley wore a bright red dress and a light-yellow sweater. Normally quiet, she broke her silence, “Well make new ones.”

“Yeah.” Tina sounded excited. “We can dance all-night and stop at Breadstix on the way home.”

Artie pushed his chair back ever so slightly. “Now doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“Will you at least think about it, bro?” Sam pouted with those green eyes.

A shiver ran up Blaine’s back with the look. Sam had that effect on him and knowing the whole idea had been his, it made the sensation worse. Ever since he made his attempted escape back to Dalton, Sam and Tina became his greatest pillars. Disruptive emotions played on him. When something distracted him Blaine felt almost normal, but it got worse in an empty space. Walking in the park made him downhearted and he tried his best to avoid the hall where Kurt’s locker had been located. Strong memories gnawed at him and then he would see Sam.

Staring up at the dear man beside him, old Blaine sighed. Long ago, he thought he would never see those lovely blue eyes again. This time he definitely knew. A few minutes ago, the life drained from the many he loved and for some reason he felt content. Remembering made a heart torn man feel warm down to the bottom of his feet.

Back in his youth, his friends tried, and his older self could not stop himself from smiling. After all the years an elderly award winner still missed them, especially Sam. The country crooner lived his life in Ohio outside Lima on a farm, of sorts, until a few years before his death. In the end those long blond locks had been traded for a shiny bald head, but he still tried to be the clown. Nearly seven hundred people showed up for his funeral, including many members of the New Directions. It turned out to be a great party with a room filled with lawyers, dancers, tony award winners, those who had worked in large box stores or tiny coffee shops and who knows what. Five years later friends came together again at a new school, hung Sam’s name over the door.

Gently kissing the hand of the man he had loved all his life, Blaine smiled. Half his face curled and then his expression which always excited Kurt. Something stirred in his midsection and then Blaine gasped as a sudden bolt of pain raced down his left arm causing his fingers to tingle. This throat constricting the heat in his chest made it hard to breath. Fortunately, short breaths negated the discomfort away.

Laying his hand on wrinkled skin, old Blaine drew in a deep breath tinted with a familiar odour. The scent soothed leaving an aging man with a thankful thought—some must be watching over him. A fond warmth supplanted the pain, making it an inconvenience at best. Smiling, he recalled lying on the bed with Kurt across from him with the twins curled up between them sleeping. The look on Kurt’s face when a younger Blaine admitted to having a crush on Sam. Kurt laughed and confessed to similar feelings when he first met the pouty blond. Aged Blaine snickered at the fact, back then, he felt jealous.

The last time an older married couple saw Sam, the formally blond man tried to talk Blaine into doing some foolhardy thing. Over the years the two talked every week and while, at some point, Rachel fell out of favour, but Sam never did, at least not in Blaine’s eyes. Kurt had issues with him from time to time.

“You can’t keep moping around like this forever,” Artie bluntly pointed out. “Get out there and jump back into the saddle.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get back in the saddle. I’m just a one horseman.” Blaine looked down at his burger he had barely touched and sighed. Ever since the breakup, he had been eating all the wrong things like fries and donuts. Elbow on the table, he leaned his head onto his fingers.

 

Sam placed a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Right, I’ll sacrifice my reputation and go with you to Scandals so we can get you laid.”

Gapping at the suggestion, Blaine’s head came up, “I’m flattered you’re willing to give up your virginity for me, but I don’t think I that is going to help.”

Brittany chuckled. “I didn’t know you could get that back?”

Tina virtually almost spat it everywhere while Marley looked confused, while Artie’s head fell back and laughing. Aghast, Sam stared at the quirky blond and then his face suddenly went beat red. Blaine giggled even though his heart painfully pounded. Dear, sweet, sometimes clumsy Sam.

Everyone laughed, though Brittany obviously did not understand. The lightened mood helped Blaine pulled himself out of his earlier and still resonating quagmire. Sam found Blaine an hour ago leaning up against his locker with his phone in his hands. A finger scrolled down the screen as he looked at haunting pictures from the past. Kurt and him at the prom. Kurt and him at the park. Kurt . . . Kurt . . . and still more Kurt. At first the finger hovered over the delete button and then the pain in his chest stopped him. The sight of Kurt’s smile and the look of his eyes still made Blaine’s knees go weak. Deleting that handsome face would do would only make him feel guiltier.

Beaming at her friend a soft but wicked smile, Tina twirled a fry in her fingers. “What do you say, Blainie Days?”

Shaking his head, Blaine looked at his friends, “I―”

“Blaine,” Brittany’s head moved from side to side. “I can get you Lord Tubbington's pills for feline depression.”

The expression on Blaine’s face changed.

Sam butted in saying, “I don’t think he needs those?”

Looking innocent Brittany glanced at Sam and then she said, “I’ve been sitting here since second period and the smell of spaghetti and meatballs is nice.”

Several people at the table looked confused.

Shaking his head Blaine commented, “Brittany?”

Cocking her head to one side, the Brittany’s eyes rolled down, so she looked at the tabletop. “Blaine, think of life as the smell of spaghetti and meatballs. It lasts as long as the wind keeps it there. Enjoy it when you can.”

Everyone looked at the blond and then Blaine honestly smiled. “Brittany, I don’t understand you half the time, but you’re so great.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Brittany shook her body and then went back to her lunch and popped a lettuce leaf in her month.

Turning his head so he looked at Blaine, Sam looked puzzled. “Okay, something happened there I do not understand.”

Rolling her eyes, Marley softly said to Blaine. “I think I know what I’ll wear.”

“We can all go as our favorite anime animal characters,” Brittany interrupted. Her nose wrinkled up as she pushed a cucumber aside.

Many around the table said nothing, but their eyes spoke volumes.

As the week rolled toward its end Blaine still had not made up his mind if he would go to this party. Brittany seemed to go overboard with ideas, but when she suggested unicorns Blaine broke down. In all innocence Brittany had no idea what she did. Kurt had one of those unicorn posters in his bedroom back at his father’s place hanging in the back of the closet.

His dad barely talked to him now and that pleased Blaine just fine. At the moment he did not need to hear his father’s condescending words. Unfortunately, Blaine lost his temper that night after his father gave Pam a bad time about dinner. It set the mood for the rest of the evening and breakfast. The next day Daniel came home and apologized to Pam and the sentiment shocked Blaine.

Things at home eased afterward and while it did not return to normal, his parents no longer argued. A stagnant, but tense sense of calm descended on the house. Peace on one front gave Blaine a reprieve and he actually had a civilized conversation with his father about school. Daniel still did not want to hear anything about Kurt.

Walking home after-school one day, the clouds inside Blaine’s head thickened. Without realizing it, he stood in front of the Gap. Staring into the window, he thought he saw someone he once lusted after. A smile stretched his lips and then turned down into a frown. Turning around, he gazed at a bench where he once sat with Kurt wrapped in a scarf and wearing a fall coat. Biting his lower lip, Blaine slowly backed up and bumped into someone. Turning about prepared to sprout apologies he stopped cold in his tracks.

“Hi Blaine?” the young man said.

Blaine looked shocked. “Finn?”

“Sorry, if I scared you.” The tall young man grinned.

“No . . . no―” Blaine fumbled on his words.

Here stood Kurt’s brother through marriage and, and like Carole last week, it conjured up a menagerie of sensations. Finn and Blaine had not always seen eye to eye, but now bonded over their mutual suffering. He and Rachel hit the skids for more or less the same reason—New York. When Kurt left Finn declared his support for Blaine. In his present state just having the jock here became a huge release.

Without permission Finn drew Blaine into a hug. The teen with gelled down hair resisted for a moment and then just leaned into the big man. Strong arms enveloped the smaller man and for the first time in weeks Blaine actually felt safe. They held each other for a moment sharing deeply related emotions.

Finally, Finn put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder with a slight embarrassed look. “Let’s get a coffee.”

“Okay.” Blaine nodded as his pinched his waist through his jacket. He had been spending too much time in coffee shops over the past weeks and it showed.

Neither spoke as they walked around the corner in the opposite direction of the Lima Bean. Memories lay beyond its threshold neither wanted to face. Holding the door open for Blaine the smell of freshly ground coffee hit both in the face. Fairly empty, something top forty played over the music system. Four people stood in line and three others sat here and there. Two workers manned the counter while a third mopped the floor talking to a redheaded fellow.

Falling into the end of the line, Finn drew in a breath and glanced at Blaine. “How are you?”

Tugging the scarf out from inside his coat Blaine responded, “It’s been uncomfortable.”

“I can relate.” Finn glanced back over his shoulder and sighed.

“What are you doing here, Finn?”

“Walking down the street.”

“And.”

“Well, I saw you.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah,” Finn deflated. “Okay, he called me. He’s worried.”

“I know.” Blaine bowed his head.

The queue moved, and Finn eyed up the deserts. “He’s a good friend and he thought talking to me might help.”

“He and Tina have been my rock.” Turning to the attendant Kurt gave his order.

Stepping aside to wait, Finn glanced away and sighed. “Blaine, I went to New York last weekend to speak to Rachel. It was good and bad.”

Mouth dropping, Blaine stared for a moment. “And Kurt?”

“He avoided me . . . mostly.” The former footballer looked sad.

Blaine’s heart fell into the bottom of his chest. If Kurt would not speak to his brother, he would not speak to him. Choking down a sob he drew in a deep breath.

Patting Blaine’s arm, Finn picked took his purchases and headed for a secluded place to sit. Mochas and brownies landed on the table as the two faced one another and painful silence ensued. For Blaine a memory flashed within his mind of two boys sat across from one another bantering back and forth. One wore a red and blue uniform and the other casual attire. The conversation ended with them holding hands. It had been a moment, which changed Blaine’s life.

The head wanted to drop, but Blaine would not allow it. He had to be strong but not for Finn’s sake, but his own. Did Kurt suffer as he did? Did Kurt still have his picture somewhere? Had he burnt them or just thrown them out? Did Kurt even mention Blaine? What did Rachel have to say about everything? The mind demanded black and white answers, while the heartfelt the guilt and pain mixed with the bitter knowledge Kurt had some measure of blame in all this.

Finn sighed and gave his friend a long look. “Blaine, honestly, you can’t keep going on like this.”

Brow pressing together Blaine gave the larger man a look. “What do you mean?”

“Your brave face and all. I can see the pain in your eyes.”

“You’ve talked to Carole.”

“She’s my mom after all and she’s worried as is your mother.”

“I know.”

“You can’t wallow in it. I know I can’t any more.” Finn sipped the chocolate mixture as he greedily eyed up a brownie. “I’ll always feel something for Rachel, but I can’t keep guessing. I have to move on and if Rachel wants to join me on the journey I will welcome here with open arms. She’ll always be my first and only true love, but I have to move on.”

Chewing on one of the sweet morsels, Blaine made a face. “Not the same as the Lima Bean.”

“Yeah.” Finn chuckled and glared at Blaine. “You’re voiding the point.”

Blaine sighed. “I want to Finn . . . but I can’t.”

“You’re still in love.”

“Desperately.”

“Oh, you have it bad.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to college. Something new will help.”

“That’s great.”

“And you should go to this dumb party.”

Snickering, Blaine sucked the cream off the top of his drink. “Now that we’ve beaten around the bush, honestly, how have you really been Finn?”

“Dreadfully depressed.”

“Ditto.”

“But―”

“But?”

“I’m in a better place now that I have seen Rachel. It’s not easy, but it’s not as bad now. We argued, but we also talked civilly.”

“I tried calling Kurt and he won’t pick up. Neither will Rachel. Santana called once and that ended horribly.” Blaine looked away as if he did not want to remember.

Snapping a brownie in half, Finn looked Blaine in the face. “She’s doing that because Kurt asked her to. The two of them have been fighting.”

“What did she say?” Blaine’s eyes brightened for a second.

Playing with the brownie, Finn frowned. “I really don’t know. She was pretty mum about Kurt.”

Blaine sighed, and his head fell. He desperately wanted to hear something after Carole’s words gave him a shimmer of hope. On the contrary, Finn’s words left him feeling panicked.

“Blaine, I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.” Finn looked disappointed.

“Finn, it’s not your fault Kurt is being―” Blaine fell silent.

“Kurt.”

“And I’m been―”

“Try calling him again.”

“Finn, he doesn’t want to hear from me?”

“Are you so sure? Try sending him a text.”

“He blocked me.”

Finn raised an eyebrow and the big jock pointed at the table as if saying ‘get it out’.

Hazel eyes shifted down to his pocket holding his cell phone. His lips pulled in followed by s heavy sigh.

Leaning closer Finn quietly and assertively asked, “Blaine, please, just do it.”

Digging out his phone out, Blaine fumbled to find Kurt’s number and hit text. He wrote a simple word—hey. An eyebrow went up when the screen remained blank—no blocked message. Eventually the need to breathe forced his hand to push the phone back in his pocket.

Finn tried to keep a straight face, but his lip curled up on one side. “I was thinking of going as a football player.”

Blaine’s brow crinkled together. “That’s nothing new.”

“I know.” Finn shrugged and shoved the remainder of brown goodness into his mouth. “I still have my old stuff.”

“And the smell.” Chuckling, Blaine sipped his beverage.

Finn beamed, “That’s the best part.”

Saturday, October twenty-seventh pulled around the corner and Blaine felt uncertain. He promised Finn and in a little while Sam and Tina would be there to pick him up. He said he would make it to Bumpers by himself, but his friends would have nothing to do with it. Emotions rolled within Blaine like eggs bobbing up and down in boiling water. It took two days before a simple—hey—popped up on his text window sending Blaine through the roof. He sent a brief one sentence reply and then waited and waited. No response until this morning and it was a short but blunt snippet. Blaine’s mood tumbled.

Sitting on the bed, he studied the things he had pulled out of his closet and the stuff he had pinched from school. Clothing and parts of various costumes lay all around him. He could not decide. A superhero came to mind, but then he did not feel like a hero or super. The furry headpiece with ears and a funny nose caught his attention. For three hours he sat there considering his options and now he wondered what Kurt would do. Well, that almost ended everything right there.

Pam must have heard him curse as she passed the partially open door. Poking her head in the door her eyes scanned the heaping mounds at the foot of the bed and open it. Stepping into the messy room, she questioned, “Blaine?”

Looking up from the cape he held, Blaine sort of ginned. “Hi, mom.”

Giving her son a sympathetic look, she strolled through the maze and sat on the bed beside him. Placing a hand on his lap, she glanced at her watch. “You’re planning on going tonight.”

The boy half-heartedly replied, “I guess I should.”

“Go only if you want to, not because your friends are forcing you to.”

“Yeah.”

“They’re trying, Blaine.”

“I know.”

“They’re going all out.”

“Just for me.”

“Just for you.”

“Mom, it's just that we―”

“Life’s not always fair.”

“I’m learning that.”

“My heart got broken for the first time when I was younger than you. Mark was nine and I was eleven. He had such nice eyes.”

“So does―”

Folding an arm about her son, Pam pulled him close. No one said anything leaving the room in silence until the phone vibrated. From her angle am could see the caller. “I think you might want to get that.”

It would just be Cooper again because he had already called three times today. With no desire to answer, Blaine looked startled when his mother pushed him ever so slightly. Turning to face the low piece of furniture a hard thump almost tore his chest open. The air he drew into his lungs hung there suspended.

The phone vibrated some more, and Blaine glanced at his mom who rose. Fear filled him. “Mom, please, stay.”

Carefully sitting she laid a hand on her son’s thigh again. She put a hand to her lips and then waved a finger at her son.

His heart pounding in his chest, he swiped just before it would have gone to voice mail. Holding it out so his mom could also hear, Blaine stumbled, “Err . . . Kurt . . . hello.”

“Blaine . . . hi,” Kurt sounded meek and almost afraid.

Emotion exploded in Blaine chest and he could hear the same in Kurt’s quiet tone. Swallowing, Blaine fumbled on his thoughts. “Hi . . . my god . . . it’s good―”

Silence on the other end caused Blaine to look at his mother who sweetly smiled. The phone shook in his hands and he almost dropped it.

When Kurt finally spoke, he said, “Blaine. . . I―”

“Kurt, I am so―” Blaine stopped speaking when he heard a huge sigh on the other sides. Silence prevailed as Pam sat there quietly with a hand resting on her son’s shoulder.

“Blaine, I . . . I’m . . . I just―”

Silence. Nagging stubborn silence. Pulling his lips in, Blaine could barely hear the breathing of a second person on the other end of the call―Rachel?

The heavy breathing on the other end irritated Blaine and then Kurt opened up the awkward conversation, “You doing anything this weekend. It’s Halloween in few days.”

“Sam, Tina and others are going to Bumpers tonight for a costume party.” Blaine swore he could feel Kurt smile. “And you?”

“Rachel is going to a party and Santana is off somewhere. I’m at home. Don’t think I’m going to do anything.”

“Go with Rachel and enjoy yourself.”

“I don’t know. It’s raining here.”

“Finn’s going to join us.”

A deep breath echoed through the phone and then Kurt fell silent for a moment. “Blaine, can you ask Finn to call me. I owe him an apology.”

His eyes still on his mother, Blaine grinned. “Will do.”

“Well, I guess I should let you go.” The words drew out as if Kurt hesitated.

“Kurt . . . I.” The throbbing against his ribs had become so heavy he thought his chest would split. A tear slid down Blaine’s cheek. “Call me.”

For a few seconds the sound of breathing echoed in the phone and then it went dead.


	16. Talking

Blaine felt giddy even as the tear slid down his cheek. Leaning on the scaffolding the thrashing in his chest excited him, because Kurt wanted to see him at Christmas. How perfect. The two of had a dozen short and edgy conversations since a simple—hey. Now they would see each other in the flesh to talk and see each other’s eyes. Before Blaine’s fall from grace, they would spend many evenings doing just that. 

Bending his neck, Blaine’s head came to rest on his hands. Kurt’s face rose up in his mind as a memory of the sweet teen looked at him from the other side of the couch encroached on his thoughts. Bare feet played with one another as they periodically peered over their homework to smile. Right hand in left or foreheads pressing against each other as hazel and blue locked. Those little things made the two whole and under the present circumstances Blaine needed such remembrances. 

Slowly Blaine’s eyes went up the curtains where he could hear singing on the stage and the thumping of feet. The team before them ended their performance, making room for the New Directions. Two lovers had danced and sung on that stage as Warblers and with Blaine’s new friends. Passing each other, they would wink and flirt finding profound happiness under the headlights. 

Lost in his own world Blaine vaguely heard the noise right behind him. Reality struck when heavy feet stomping on the wood behind him, caused Blaine to jump. Sam stood there with a stupid look on his charming face. 

“Hey bro?” Sam pulled back, holding his hands slightly away from his body. Happiness drained away into alarm and he softly asked, “You alright?”

Blaine’s lips curled up into the most delicious smell. 

“Who was that?” One of Sam’s eyebrow went up. “Let me guess . . . Kurt?”

“Yes,” Blaine’s voice came out as a heavily emotional hush. “He wants to go ice-skating Christmas.”

Sam slapped Blaine on the shoulder. “That’s great!”

“Yeah it is―”

“What?”

“We have to wait and see.”

“You’ve barely talked for more than a half hour over how many calls.”

“He said I’m still his best friend.”

“Are we going to Bumpers tonight?”

Pushing off the scaffolding, Blaine shook his head. “Sam?”

One of Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Jumping up on the speakers and then whipping your shirt off.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down.”

“Hell no.”

“Just don’t share it with Kurt. It would be so embarrassing.”

“Would Santana keep it to herself?”

Blaine’s face hardened and then his eyes rolled. 

Sam smirked. “You were singing one of those songs.”

“Sam, you didn’t?”

“We all decided to keep it to ourselves for the time being. But give us a chance and we’ll upload it.”

“Sam?”

The hand on his forearm tightened and Sam said, “Look Blaine, I don’t want to see you get hurt . . . again.”

“Threatening embarrassment on an international scale is what . . .” Blaine glared at his friend. Out on stage the song wound down. “Kindness?”

“Would I do that?” The blond smiled.

Blaine sighed and looked down. “I miss him so much.”

Wrapping an arm about the amazing singer, Sam pulled Blaine with him to join the rest of the New Directions. The curtain went up a couple of minutes later and out on the stage Blaine put everything he could into his performance. He sang for happiness, and regardless of everything the team put into their effort. It however did not prevent them from being disqualified when Marley fainted. Concern turned into anger when it came out Kitty had coached Marley on her diet. The tempers made Blaine despondent and he wandered the halls he circled the preparation rooms, several times until raised voices coming from the women’s washroom caught his attention. Stepping closer he recognized Marley and Kitty having an elevated conversation. He went to knock on the door when the phone buzzed in his pocket. Hauling it out his heart thumps in his chest—Kurt. At that moment Tina stepped around the corner giving Blaine an odd look.

Pointing to his phone, Blaine stepped back, leaving Tina standing there. Retreating around the corner, he answered, but it has gone to voicemail. He waited and then tapped on Kurt’s number. It rang four times before a voice accompanied by music radiated into Blaine’s ear. A simple question received a sorrowful answer and an explanation. Then someone yelled at Kurt and for several long moments, loud sounds bombard Blaine. Finally, his head drooped, and Blaine hung up.

The next afternoon Kurt phoned back apologizing, but he did not sound too good. Rachel’s moaning in the background confirmed the hypothesis they had held a party the night before. The short call left Blaine with nagging doubts.

Six days later, Blaine sat on his bed pouting as he stared at his phone. Conflicted by his emotions, he waited to be happy, but found it hard. He looked forward to Christmas and now Kurt’s news about NYADA dashed his hopes―Kurt would not be coming out at Christmas. The distress in the young man’s voice could not be denied and unlike their past conversations this one lasted well over an hour. It felt like old times, but then Kurt’s mood shifted. The argument lasted five minutes, ending in swearing and a dead phone line.

Sometime later a conflicted Blaine pulled his coat over his shoulders and told his mom, he needed to get some air. Tightening his scarf about his neck and pulling up his collar he looked up at the gray clouds wondering if he would rain or snow. Turning to the left at the end of the driveway, he let his feet carry him. Breathing in the crisp, cool air revitalized his spirits giving him a break from the complex emotions he felt. Maybe Finn had it right in suggesting he just get away from it. The former jock made his move and found a college which would accept him even though the term had started. It meant catching up, but he got on with his life. Why could not he find the strength to take that step?

Cooper kept telling his younger brother to come to California, but transferring with a little over a half year before graduation did not make sense. To Blaine it meant running away from the problems he faced. In his dreams he continued to see two men walking the candlelit halls of a huge manor house holding hands. It reminded Blaine of those old Jane Austin books he had never liked. Oddly, he found himself enjoying the movies because something about them reminded him of happier times. 

Deep down Blaine knew he would never be happy with someone else, well not as happy. Lima offered little for a young gay man. Yes, he knew of others gay teens, but then. . . he did not know if he liked any of them that much. The need for sex did not grab him as it has with Kurt and thus, he had not played with himself in almost two months. He could go to Scandals with brave Sam and there his thoughts paused. The sight of those lips sent tingling caressing down his spin. The titillating sensations allowed the weary teen to focus on something other than what he really wanted—Kurt. 

With the night sky growing around him, Blaine stood under a street lamp close to a darkened storefront. Arms wrapped around himself, his mind played tricks. The tantalizing scent of one of Kurt’s sweaters nagged at him like a buzzing wasp. He could see Kurt’s innocent blush when he asked Blaine about getting down and dirty followed by playful comments about layers of cloths and masturbation. Blaine never told Kurt, but he found the episode so cute. Where had that innocence gone? What had changed? 

Changes? Kurt’s voice had not altered, but the manner in which he used it had. He seemed more confident as if his shyness had faded into something Blaine still struggled to understand. Naivety aside, he knew change would happen because the world thrived on it. Sorrowfully he had wanted to be part of these changes.

They could have talked about the issues rather than wallow the pain they caused. When the two first met Blaine put on airs displaying self-assurance. The feeling of safety Dalton allowed him to express a side of himself he could not at home. Kurt saw that side, but as the reality of life outside of Dalton twisted Blaine’s world, Kurt’s wonderful trance crumbled the façade. As much as Dalton had protected him, Kurt took on the mantle. It took a horrible act of betrayal for Blaine to realize the agonizing truth.

Almost two hours into his walk darkness had fallen, the wind picked up and it snowed. Smiling at the huge, wet flakes illuminated against the streetlight the older teen decided he had better turn back. Taking a side street, the wind roared off the distant river chilling him to the bone. Taking refuge from the biting cold in a café on the edge of downtown Blaine contemplated calling his mom to come pick him up.

Rubbing his hands together, he sauntered up to the counter thinking about something warm and sweet. Standing there Blaine stared at the treats in the cabinet and then something caught his attention. Looking that way, he spotted a bald-headed man sat against the window in a secluded corner studying some of the papers. A large coffee cup sat close to the edge of the round table. He did not look the part of a congressman in his jeans and plaid shirt. 

Pain wrenched the chest and he looked down at his feet where water puddling around him from his wet shoes. Burt? Could he face him? Maybe karma struck, hitting his decision to move on into right field. For a second Blaine considered leaving and then he noticed the concentration on the older man’s face. Kurt’s father looked worried.

After a second of hesitation he stripped off his scarf and undid his coat. With care Blaine walked over. “Hey there?”

Burt’s eyes shifted and looked up from the paper fanned out over the table. Surprise glittered in his eyes. “Blaine?”

The congressman did not look too good with the redness circled Burt’s eyes. Thought immediately went to Kurt but then Blaine sensed something deeper. Blaine involuntarily stepped back.

Blinking, Burt pointed to the other chair and then shuffled his paperback into a nondescript folder. “Please, Blaine, join me.”

“You sure I’m not disturbing you.”

“Nah. I could use the company. It’s been a long day.”

“I can relate.”

Waving his hand to get the attendant’s attention, Burt pointed at the chair again. “Please, Blaine.”

Taking his jacket off, Blaine hung it over the back of the opposite chair and sat. Their eyes met, and no one said a word for a few seconds. For Blaine it dredged up unwanted thoughts, but then he could see the ache in Burt’s eyes. It felt awkward sitting across from Kurt’s father after all this time. For a while now Blaine had been avoiding him, but something in Burt’s mannerisms made him vulnerable.

Sucking his lips in, Burt broke the silence. “You’re out late?”

“Needed some air.” Blaine sighed as eyes went down to the tabletop.

“I’ve been here all evening and I can use something to eat.” The look in Burt’s eyes spoke of the need to talk. “You want something.”

Food? Blaine had not thought about it during his stroll around town. Nodding, he looked up at the waitress as she drew near. Burt ordered soup and a water and Blaine a mocha and a sandwich. 

Eyes wandering this way and that Burt asked. “How’s school?”

Such a simple question, but then the answer could be so complicated. The words rolled from Blaine’s mouth without much thought. “You know school, it can be like work . . . tedious.”

“Sounds like Washington but I love it. I feel I am doing something for people.”

“I kind of feel that way on stage.”

“Kurt said the same thing.”

Eyes rolling down, Blaine found it hard to look at Burt. “We got eliminated because one of the girls got sick.”

“Oh dear.” Burt’s brow tightened. “Sorry to hear that.”

“She’s been suffering from and eating disorder.”

“I hope she’s gone to see her doctor.”

“We’re all helping as best we can.”

“That’s good. I hope she gets better.”

“Me too. I like her. She’s got a great voice.”

“All that aside, how are you doing Blaine?” Burt looked concerned.

Suddenly apprehensive, Blaine hesitated and decided not to lie. “For the most part middling but I could be better.”

“But you’re holding up.”

“Yeah . . . sort of?”

“You can come and talk to me any time.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Yes, but the offer stands.”

“Thanks Burt. What’s up with you? You seem upset.”

“I guess it’s not worth beating around the bush―” Regardless of his bravado Burt’s voice faded. He glanced down at the folder and placed a hand heavily upon in. “I’ve been wanting to call you.”

Without thinking Blaine leaned closer to Kurt’s father. He had never seen Burt not being his normally bubbly and, yes, serious nature crumbled into a morass of brooding. Blaine swore he could see the gears shifting as he pondered something very heavy.

The pause lasted perhaps a minute before Burt completed his terse, opening remarks. “Blaine, I have cancer.”

Blaine smashed back into the chair, stunned. No other word could destroy lives faster than cancer. Wide-eyed, he did not know what to say as a great menagerie of emotions erupted within his chest. What would he have done if it had been his mother sitting on the other side of the table? Or his brother? The thought sent a shiver racing up his body from the bottom of his feet to the hairs on his head. What if Kurt told him such a thing? His heart stuttered. The man in front of him represented everything his father did not. 

Studying Burt, the contents of his stomach rose in Blaine’s throat and he grimaced at the burn. Unsteady words escaped his mouth. “Oh my god.”

The quiet remained for a few seconds and then Burt let out a sigh. “Blaine, I did not have to tell you, but you’re still family to me regardless of what’s transpiring between Kurt and yourself.”

The statement came as an unexpected jolt because it obviously meant Burt remained blind to the details of their breakup. A sense of being trapped edged into Blaine’s heart.

“Blaine, I have been sitting here going over the doctor’s suggestions for treatments.” The man pushed the folder to the edge of the table. An emotional shadow crossed his eyes, making him look weak and afraid.

“How’s Carole taking it? Finn?”

“I told Finn this morning.”

“And?” 

“He’s can’t get home until next week.”

“And Carole?”

“She’s been so supportive, but it scares her.”

“Oh my . . . as Kurt’s―” Blaine looked down biting his upper lip as wild thoughts accompanied equally violent emotion. His thoughts of Kurt, who lost his mom to the dreaded disease and now . . . this.

Smiling, Burt softly commented, “I’m doing fine, really.”

“Burt?” Blaine paused. “Is it . . . painful?”

“It’s okay, Blaine. The doctor says they found it in an early stage.”

Burt’s stomach loudly growled and the two laughed. It felt good for a second and then the heaviness returned bringing silence. A moment later, Blaine softly asked, “I don’t really understand why you are telling me this?”

Glancing at the paperwork Burt looked distracted.

Troubles with Kurt aside, Blaine felt morally obligated to assist. “How can help, Burt?”

Something sparkled in Burt’s eyes. “You don’t need to.”

“Yes, I do.” Blaine leaned closer and placed a hand on Burt’s. “You said I’m family and family helps each other.”

Burt smiled and then looked up at the approaching waitress. “Thank you.”

“Burt, you know I’ll help.” Blaine’s chest tightened and his eyes swiveled up as a plate and a bowl quietly came to rest on the table. This could put him at odds with Kurt and their relationship spun like a wobbly top. He had no idea where it would land.

Burt played with his soup by swirling it around with his spoon. Letting out a sigh, he looked Blaine straight in the face. “I want you to come to New York with me.”

Sputtering on his mocha, Blaine swallowed hard. Staring at Burt his eyes went wide. “Kurt wouldn’t―”

“Blaine, hear me out and I will give you time to decide.” Burt feed a spoonful of soup into his mouth and then nodded with the taste.

“Okay.” The teenager sounded meek. The heart pounding in his chest made him feel uncomfortable. 

Burt tooled with his soup as he stared out the window for a few seconds looking distant. In a low voice, he said, “I haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” Blaine lurched forward with wide eyes

“I want to tell him in person. Kurt deserves that much. He has been my life since his―” The colour drained from Burt face and a tear rolled down his cheek. “I don’t know . . . how he will . . . react.”

The look on the man’s face dug deep into Blaine’s chest. With his emotions already on edge, moisture welled up in his eyes. Sitting there, he stared for a long moment and then quietly said. “Humm . . . excuse me Burt, is this really a good idea?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Burt looked despondent. “My son will need you.”

“Kurt and I are not exactly on the best of terms.”

“You don’t think I know that.”

“We talk now and then, but that’s it.”

Noting the look on Blaine’s face, Burt let out a sigh. “Kurt told me about your Thanksgiving call and then his canceled Christmas. I know the sound of stifled sobs when I hear them.”

The words sank into Blaine’s chest like stones added to a sinking ship. The mind spun off in one direction and his heart the other. For a second it felt as if his tongue had swelled up in his month choking him. Clearing his throat, no words came out.

Older eyes gazed at his younger counterpart, heavy feelings rimmed a father’s eyes as if he realized something. Blinking, Burt said in a soft tone, “It looks like he hasn’t―”

Mouth hanging open Blaine fought with his inner demons and the glanced away. 

Burt pushed back his chair. A massive wave of sentiment flashed across his face. “Sorry Blaine, but I think I had better pay for this and go.” 

“No, no, Burt . . .” Blaine leaned forward with his mocha in his hands. “Please . . . stay.”

A father looked down at the boy staring up at him with large guilty eyes. Burt’s lips curled in and then he slowly sat again. Leaning back, his face changed a couple of times. “I guess my son hasn’t told me everything either.”

Elbows fell on the table as Blaine’s head came to rest on his palms covering his eyes. He remained there for a few seconds and then he looked up. “Burt, I cheated on your son. I thought it was over between us and I―”

Drawing in a long breath, Burt glanced out the window for a few seconds. The silence has been deafening and then Burt said in a low, shaky tone, “Carole told me he had been hanging up on you like he has with us.”

“That doesn’t forgive what I did.” A tear rolled down Blaine’s cheek.

Picking up his napkin, Burt handed it to the teen. “No, it doesn’t but then it does. I don’t need the details.”

“But Burt . . . I hurt him.” Blaine’s chin quivered as he sopped up the moisture under his eyes.

“And, he didn’t hurt you. No, it does not just you, Blaine. My son told me you split and that was that. No goddamned explanation. He just hung up.” Anger flashed in Burt’s and then he drew in a deep breath. “Blaine, the look on your face tells me much. It tells me what you feel is real. It tells me you are that caring boy who came to me in my garage to give me an education about my son. I see you’re still doing it.”

“Burt . . .” Blaine shook his head and his hands fell to the table. “I really screwed it up.”

“Yes, you . . . well―” Burt looked uncomfortable with a word. Placing a hand on Blaine’s he smiled and finished his thought, “Yes, you gave in to your needs. While not wise, it’s human, Blaine.”

“But?”

“Did my son hang up on you? Did he change the subject to something he wanted to talk about taking away from what you wanted to speak about? Did he not pick up your calls when you know he could? Did he ignore you?”

“Yes, but―”

“Listen to me Blaine. My son pushed you into it by neglecting your needs.” Burt looked down shaking his head. “Blaine. Believe me, I understand. I cheated on Janet, Kurt’s mother. I got drunk and . . . well . . . that is neither here or there. We fought. We talked. We forgave, and we grew stronger. Then Kurt came along, and my life changed forever.”

Flabbergasted, Blaine just stared not knowing what to do with Burt’s candidness. 

“None of us are angels, Blaine.” Burt pointed at his heart. “The answer is hanging on the tip of your tongue.”

The mind flipped to the Lima Bean after the New Directions had been disqualified from the nationals in New York. Kurt sat across from Blaine in the off-white coat reminiscing about the adventure. The look on his face thrilled Blaine, who lapped it all up. With his cheek resting in one hand, the words—I love you—effortlessly rolled off a mesmerized his throat.

Sitting back the teen’s right hand went to his chin where it froze. In some odd manner he could still feel Kurt’s hand pressing against his palm. Letting out an emotional sigh, Blaine admitted, “I still love Kurt . . . very much.”

The expression on Burt’s face shifted to thoughtful and then he smiled, “I know.”

“It’s so hard.” Blaine’s voice cracked and then his head fell into his hands again. “I . . . really miss him.”

“New York has changed the boy. He is not the sweetest kid, I once knew, but he is still my son.”

“What will having me there achieve?”

“Peace?”

A ping of pain struck a young heart leaving Blaine deflated.

Placing his hand on the young man in front of him, Burt said, “I would like you there because my stubborn son might need you after our discussion. He may be proud and sometimes dense, but my son also cares and you’re still his best friend.”

“Yes, he did say that.” A dreamy look danced across Blaine’s face only to be washed away like sand on the beach.

“He still lives in you, Blaine. Carole tells me she can see the same in my son’s eyes.” Burt paused and glanced out the window. “He’s my only son and my joy. I need to be the one to tell him. I know him. He will be emotionally stoic, but with you he opens up.”

“I understand the sentiment.” An uncomfortable look passed across Blaine’s face. “Burt, I really don’t think he would like to see me.”


	17. Oh Crap

“Hey squirt,” someone yelled from behind.

Glancing up from staring at the luggage carousel, Blaine’s eyes went wide. Cooper strolled out from the crowd swinging his arms open wide. Buoyed from four nights in New York, Blaine’s face exploded into a huge smile. Throwing his arms around his brother, the youngest Anderson pulled Cooper so close he began to squirm. Once estranged, the two brothers now talked at least once a week, leaving Blaine with the impression that perhaps Cooper understood. After all, he did live in Las Angeles, where gay men fall out of buses and lay nude on the beach.

“Woo, little brother.” Cooper teased as he endured Blaine’s happiness. It had been weeks since he had seen his brother this happy. “That's good ha?” 

Blaine let out a satisfied sigh and released his brother with a wonderful sigh. Christmas had been a marvel wit father and son having a great time regardless of the seriousness surrounding the holidays. For the most part Kurt took things, amazingly, but then Blaine knew what to look for. A twitch of the right eyes next to the eye or the slightest motion of an eyebrow. While these minute details gave Blaine a reason to be concerned others revealed interest. The dilation of the pupil or the inflection of the voice exposed the emotion he reserved for the people he held dear. As the hours of the visit wore on Burt’s little boy came out to play once the smokescreen had been stripped bare.

Adding Blaine to the mix made for a festive and sometimes tense occasion. The surprise at the ice-skating rink pulled Kurt to someplace Blaine did not know. While he seemed to be happy, Blaine noted the stiffness in his ex’s posture. A strained past haunted them, but then they bounced about the loft making a simple meal and singing seasonal songs. In the corner of his eyes Blaine could see the happiness in Burt’s face lifting the dark shadows cancer produced. When he had a chance, he mouthed a silent thank you. All in all, regardless of Kurt being Kurt, it worked.

Then the time came when Blaine had to leave. Father and son took him to the Kennedy Airport even though the young visitor argued. Burt would hear nothing of it and Kurt response involved an impish little grin. The expense of a cab ride bothered Blaine but Burt, being a congressman, had perks such as a higher than average income. Much to his son’s consternation, Burt took the front, forcing him into the backseat with Blaine. It got a father a dirty look, but the appearance of Kurt’s face shifted when he noticed the amusement glistening in hazel eyes.

Awkward words punctuated by bouts of silence engulfed them after check in. Standing outside security, Kurt stood close to his father talking to Burt more than Blaine. Watching his ex-lover, but not watching him at the same time, Kurt played a game. It bothered Blaine, who did not know what to expect. When the time to part snuck up on them no one did anything. Sadly, he turned toward the lineups passing through security. Out of the blue Burt drew Blaine into a warm hug and a comment—call me anytime

The meaning of the words had not been lost on Blaine. On the other hand, Kurt just stood there with a, I do not know what to do look. Blue locked on hazel and then, Kurt leaned in, giving Blaine a tentative hug. Holding each other for a few seconds longer than either of them anticipated Blaine felt a gently heat spread through his chest. The curly haired teen recalled the words Kurt had whispered when he returned to McKinley—I will never leave you.

The teen choked back deep emotions as he passed through security. Looking back twice, he saw Burt standing there holding his son by the shoulder. A father’s face revealed sorrow while the son, well, Blaine could not tell. Irrespective of Kurt’s coolness, Blaine felt good. The Thanksgiving forgiveness, call started Blaine down a path of healing. With Christmas out of the way he felt he could finally move on. To where he did not know, but one thing he did know—he and Kurt would at least be friends. 

Mental snapshots of a wonderful time flashed through his mind and then he suddenly noticed something. Rewinding his thoughts, he recalled seeing the ‘KB’ pin he had given Kurt lying on the nightstand for everyone to see. Deep warmth spread through his chest as his face got that distant look. 

Cooper’s foot pressing against Blaine’s broke concentration. Pulling away, he smiled up at his taller sibling. “Sorry, Cooper.”

Cooper gave his younger brother that patented Hollywood grin. “Yup, that’s me. Came home for the New Year.”

“That’s great.” Blaine felt a tightness in his chest whenever Cooper beat around the bush. “I bet dad is happy.”

“Yeah.” The smirk fell away. “Let’s go get a coffee.”

Something seemed out of place, causing the expression on Blaine’s face to wane.

Cooper hauled at the handle of Blaine’s bag and started to walk. He made a face as if it weighed too much. “You buy New York out?”

Giving his brother a look, Blaine knew Cooper noticed. “A little bit.”

“Good.” Cooper made a face. “You need some new clothes. Kurt has mediocre taste.”

Resenting the statement, Blaine bluntly retorted, “He has great taste.” 

“Yeah, right.” Cooper rolled his eyes. Wrapping his arm around his little brother, he dragged his through the crowd. 

Every airport had a Starbucks and there they stopped to wait in the lineup. It felt like it took forever and Cooper paying only added to Blaine’s suspicion. They found a place to sit close to a window looking out onto the tarmac. One brother joked with his younger counterpart redirecting remarks and questions.

After about five minutes of idle chitchat Blaine glared at Cooper. Pursing his lips, he demanded, “Out with it?”

“What?” His brother returned an innocent look.

Rolling his eyes, Blaine gave his brother a hard look. “Come off it, Cooper?”

“You’ve always been one for seeing through me.” Cooper took a long swig of his tall coffee.

Heat rose in up Blaine’s neck. “For crap’s sake Cooper, what the hell happened?” 

Sighing, Cooper glanced down at his hands and then up at his brother. “Mom did not want to ruin your time in New York.”

“Coop?” Blaine’s voice rose in pitch and volume.

“Okay.” The older brother suddenly sighed with an unhappy marring his handsome face. “Mom and dad got into a big blow.”

Sitting forward, Blaine’s face contorted. “What happened?” 

“I don’t think you want to go there yet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Blaine.”

“It’s about me again?”

Sitting back, Cooper looked more than a little upset. “It’s been brewing for a while. Mom told me it has been going on behind closed doors for a few years now.”

Face turning red, Blaine’s tone rose. “Why hasn’t she told me any of this?”

Reaching over, Cooper placed a hand on his little brother’s forearm. “Let’s take these coffees and we can drink them on the drive home.”

“Cooper?” Blaine objected.

“Just humour me.” Cooper grinned and rose. “Besides, I thought you would want to see mom.”

Pushing his mouth out, Blaine gave his brother a hard stare. It felt like Kurt all over again where no one wanted to tell him the truth straight up. He could understand why Kurt might be conflicted but Cooper?

Walking out the front doors to the parking lot the brothers did not say a word. The silence played on Blaine’s sentiments about Kurt and his mother. The throbbing in his chest demanded answers, but he could wait a tiny bit longer. It has been said bad things come in threes, what next?

The younger son brooded as they drove to Lima. After half an hour of music blaring in his ears and his head started to pound. Cooper joked and talked about himself while Blaine dug himself in for a long siege. He felt like that eight-year-old who could never please his older brother. Irritated, Blaine just cut his brother off and silence reigned until the car pulled into a privately owned café the family usually stopped there on the way out of or into town. It had the best homemade apple and raisin pie, which Blaine loved. When he was younger and a little fatter, Cooper liked the sundae made with a half quart of ice cream and lots of chocolate. After getting, yet another, coffee the brothers sat facing each other staring.

Gnawing quiet prevailed and then Blaine drew in a deep breath. Taking a sip with a sigh, he glanced over the rim at his brother. “Okay, Cooper, please tell me what’s up?”

“Blaine, you have better ask mom because she asked me not to say anything.” Cooper downed half his coffee even though felt exceedingly warm going down.

Moving lips formed a less than moral word. Blaine rarely swore.

“Come on little brother,” Cooper smiled his famous electric smile as he avoided the issue at hand once more. “You were literally vibrating when we hugged at arrivals. Are you and your sweetie back together again?”

His brother liked being an asshole at times. “No!”

“That was abrupt.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t answer my questions so why should I answer yours.”

“Don’t be that way. Mom wants to tell you herself.”

“Fine.”

“I’m not trying to upset you.”

“Too late.”

“I know you, Blaine. There’s other stuff locked up in there.”

“Right, fine, sorry, Coop, but you―”

“Blaine, I told you, she wants to tell you herself.”

“But it’s bad,”

Cooper bit his tongue and nodded. 

Looking down, Blaine gulped down a quarter of his coffee. “Why are we sitting here then?”

Cooper’s eyes shifted sway. “Too early.”

The chin dropped, and Blaine stared at his brother for a long moment hating this silly game. With a sigh, he said, “Okay. New York was great. I still find it hard to believe Burt would do that.”

“He has faith in you kiddo.” Cooper smiled with his victory.

“Yeah, I guess so. You should have seen Kurt’s face when I skated up to him, saying, ‘Package for Mr. Hummel’. It was priceless.”

“You’re quite the package, little bro.”

“We got along for the most part. It felt like old times―” Blaine purposefully chose his words, but as he spoke the thoughts unraveled. “―but . . . then it . . . hung there like a heavy . . . balloon that would not pop.”

Cooper leaned closer with an inquisitive look. “What hung there?”

Stupid. Telling Cooper sent a shiver shooting up Blaine’s back. Heat rose in his cheeks because his brother would only make him an object to toy with.

“Right, more state secrets.” Cooper pouted.

Sipping his coffee, Blaine ignored the comment.

Sitting back, Cooper asked with a deadpan look. “Did the two of you . . . do it?”

“Coop!” Quick shocked Blaine glanced away at the picture on the wall beside them. His skin turned red and he looked away.

Grinning from ear to ear, Cooper nodded. “You dirty dog.”

Blushing, Blaine gulped down half of what remained of his coffee. “Yes, we shared the fold out couch. Burt had Kurt’s bed, though he argued. Before you say it, we were fully clothed.”

The older brother gave his younger sibling an enthusiastic look. “You cuddled?”

Eyes narrowing Blaine defended himself. “Nothing happened . . . well not like that. I did wake up in the middle of the night with Kurt coiled about me like a pretzel.”

Copper smiled as his eyebrows went up and down. “Well then, he doesn’t hate you. Did you talk?”

“Yeah, we talked.”

“And?”

“We’re friends.”

“Really now? I would have sworn you were sprouting wood when we hugged.”

Blushing and coughed and turned beat red just as his eyes rolled to the right and he growled, “You’re horrible.”

“You must have had some sort of fantasy unless seeing your brother affected you that much?” Coyly leaning forward, Cooper whispered, “And you’re still in love.”

That question again? Everyone asked it. Yes, it had been fun. Yes, when he woke that first morning, he felt Kurt’s hard sexual appendage pressed into his thigh. It took every ethical fibre in his body not to jump the adorable man and have his way with him. What if Kurt had screamed and yelled? What if he accepted and they made long, passionate love? What? What? What?

Running his hand through his hair, Blaine frowned. Yes, he loved him, but then Kurt had been cool or even angry. Not knowing unsettled the longing teen. 

Grabbing up his coffee, Blaine chugged it down while trying to ignore it brother. He hated it when Cooper did this, yet he could not deny the fussy sensation in his chest. Yeah, they bumped up against each other by accident . . . well he thought of it that way . . . and, yes, he liked it. With Rachel tucked in her bed, Burt lounging in Kurt’s area and Santana shacked up with some girl, their nights turned into a clumsy affair. Blaine took the side closest to the bookshelf, giving Kurt the advantage of an escape route. Stifling a chuckle, Blaine suddenly smiled because he enjoyed crawling over Kurt to go to the bathroom.

“I’ll take that look as a yes,” Cooper purred. He smiled a genuine, non-Hollywood smile. “Does he still love you?”

Caught off guard, Blaine gulped down the remains of his coffee. The cup lowered, and he bit his upper lip. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. We never really talked about that.”

“But?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“He flirted.”

Cheeks reddening, Blaine simply nodded.

“Then, in my humble opinion, you have not lost him completely.” Cooper smiled and finished off his coffee. “What did you give him for Christmas, besides your charming wit?”

“Ha, ha.” A reprieve? Perhaps, but Blaine knew his older brother. Feeling a little more at ease, he leaned back and sighed. “I got him a really beautiful wool scarf in Kennedy.”

“He’ll like that and it’s not something over the top mushy.”

“Yeah, he did and no it wasn’t.”

“Did he get you anything?”

“He didn’t even know I was coming.”

“And”

“Okay, he had something for me. It did not have a real Christmas feel to it. I think he had it for a while.”

“What was it?”

“A bow tie.”

Cooper laughed.

“It had Halloween colours. Nice one too, and made of silk.” Blaine chuckled as well.

Smiling, Cooper patted Blaine on the arm. “Are you going to be alright, little bro?”

“I wish I knew for certain, but I think so.”

“Good. I hate seeing my little brother so upset.”

“You would never have said that a year ago.”

“No, I would have tried to get your hair all knotted up in the brambles.”

A good belly laugh allowed a wave of relief to wash through the younger Anderson child. Regardless of the fact, anger continued to bubble just under the surface. He wanted to caution his brother, but tried his best to stay on the high road. The words expelled from his mouth continued a level of honesty two brothers rarely shared. 

“Thanks Cooper,” The smile on Blaine’s face held genuine admiration. “I needed that.”

“I kind of knew you would be either elated or upset when you got back. That is why I flew in to surprise everyone for Christmas.” Cooper paused and looked thoughtful. “Well, it didn’t quite turn out the way I hoped.” 

Blaine’s heart tightened, and his chin dropped. “Please tell me, Coop?”

Making a face, Cooper leaned toward his little brother. A single eyebrow went up. “Don’t you tell mom.”

Blaine grinned. “I never told on you.”

“Yeah, right.” Cooper shook his head. “When I fell off the wall?”

“I never needed to. Mrs. Straus saw the whole thing,”

“Yeah, but you blabbed everything.”

“I was six. You know what dad is like.”

“All too well.” Cooper’s voice had an edge to it and his expression changed as he sat back.

Sitting back, Blaine studied his brother for a few seconds and pleaded, “Please Cooper. I don’t know how much more I can take. With Kurt and now . . . well?”

“I could never resist those puppy eyes of yours.” Cooper winked. “I bet they drove Kurt up the wall.”

“Crap!” Blaine grunted and looked crossed.

“Okay, bro, hold on to your shorts.” Cooper took a long draft of his coffee. Rolling his head to one side his shoulders sagged. “It started off well. I got there the day you left as I planned. I wanted some time with the folks. That night I asked mom what is really going on with you. You should learn to trust your older brother.”

That deserved a speculative look, but Blaine knew Cooper spoke the truth. The older sibling had become a jerk since moving to Hollywood, but he showed different colours lately. Blaine had to wonder what the catch might be.

Cooper went on, “It went downhill on Christmas morning. Mom made us breakfast and she asked me how I thought you were getting along. She was worried.”

“She didn’t have to be.” Blaine interrupted.

“You know mom.” Cooper looked distraught. “Then dad piped up about you being with your . . . well I’m not going to say it. He started in on Burt for . . . well, you can figure that out too?”

“I can imagine,” Blaine stared at an empty coffee cup and then saddened, his eyes circled up to his brother. “At times I don’t think dad will ever understand.”

“He’s old school, but at times he can be really cool.”

“I wish.”

“Honestly, I have never figured out why he’s down on you.”

“The whole gay thing?’

“I don’t know about that. Dad has gay clients and co-workers.”

“They’re not his son. I think he wants one of us to follow in his footsteps and you already made your move. I’m the one who can still be molded.”

“You’re too independent Blaine. I went to Las Angeles to make my dreams come true, but you know they're the real reason. You were too young, but he rode me pretty hard.”

“But you get along with them so well.”

“You know mom is easy to get along, even when she’s been drinking. Dad, well he has not changed that much. I get along with dad because I’ve matured a little bit and I’m not under his roof anymore.”

Pouting, Blaine placed both elbows on the table and pressed his chin into his palms. “Yeah, we both know dad isn’t perfect. What did he do to mom to put her in the hospital?”

Cooper sat up straight. “I never mentioned hospital.”

“You mentioned it was too early.” The heart thumped within a teen’s chest. 

“I guess I did.” Cooper looked down at his hands and then up again. “Dad had been drinking most of the night and started up again in the morning. Mom actually stood―”

“What?”

“Yeah, she laid into him pretty good. I could see him trying to hold back even though they really got into it. Dad finally lost it and he threw his plate at her like a frisbee. It caught mom in the face right below her eye knocked her out cold. Dad panicked and took off and I called for an ambulance and the police.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“It was kind of frantic there for a few hours. Then mom didn’t want to ruin your chance with Kurt. You wouldn’t have been able to get a flight anyhow.”

“Cooper?” Blaine’s voice squeaked as he started to wave his hands about and then looked at his brother in the face. 

Tapping his brother’s hand, Cooper cautioned, “Calm down.”

Giving his older sibling an off look, Blaine demanded, “I want to go see her?”

Glancing down at his watch Cooper did not look too happy. “By the time we get there visiting hours would have started.”

“How bad is she?” 

“The plate broke the cheekbone and she had a concussion. They’ve kept her in for observations.”

“Where’s dad?”

“They arrested him for assault and drunk driving.”

Crushing the cardboard coffee container, Blaine rose and put his coat on. As he did his mind suddenly went to Kurt and how their lives paralleled each other. Would he have treated Kurt the way Daniel treated his mother? Some experts say children learn from the parent’s actions and not words. Had he hurt Kurt in the same way his father had hurt his mom? He did not want to be that way.

Blaine paused in mid-twist of his scarf wrapping around his neck. God, no! The thought raddled his brain as an eerie sensation wiggled down his spine. It rebounded back up his back, leaving the older teen with an uncomfortable feeling the pit of his stomach. Brows bunching together, he did not like where his mind took him. Had his dad cheated on his mother? The thought made him feel sick.

“You alright. Blaine?” Cooper suddenly asked.

Shaking his head, Blaine blinked and glancing at his brother, he weakly smiled. “Yeah.”

“You sure?” Cooper stepped in front of his brother.

“Yes!” Blaine snapped.

Twenty turbulent minutes later, an older brother gave his younger brother a look at the two of them walked through the hospital’s front door. Just inside reception Blaine paused and glanced about. Cooper tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the elevator. 

The younger Anderson almost stumbled when Cooper pushed the door open. Things beeped off to the left where an old woman slept in her bed raised and his head to one side with tubes running from drips hanging over his shoulder. Across the aisle a lady in her thirties with her leg in a cast over the knee typed feverishly onto a laptop. One of the beds by the window looked crisp and untouched. The curtain between the beds had been pulled to the end of the bed. A bathrobe lay on the end of the bed with one sideways foot underneath it. 

The older sibling pressed on Blaine’s shoulder, urging him into the room. Slowly walking passed the first two beds, Blaine stopped when he saw his mom on the right-hand bed lying on her side facing the window. Long strands of dark hair flowed own over the pillow and her shoulder. A big bandage on her face caught Blaine’s attention and his chin dropped before he sucked in a sharp breath. The hair pulled from the pillow as her head moved bringing her uncovered into view. Bright eyes, she gazed at her sons and then slowly a hand came up with a smile. 

“Mom?” the word barely escaped Blaine’s mouth. Hazel eyes gazed at her with bewildered look which quickly turned to deep emotion. 

“My boy. Come and kiss your mom.” Pam bright face lit the room and beaconed her youngest with her fingers. Her eyes went to her oldest son. “You can tell me all about your adventures in New York.”

Walking slowly over to the side of the bed, Blaine kissed his mom on the forehead and then said, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good,” Pam smiled, her hand held out of her youngest son.

Studying his mother, Blaine’s lips twitched as he stared at the bandage covered her eye and down onto her cheek. The skin around it showed the early signs of a bad bruise. She looked cheerful enough, but Blaine knew the act when he saw it. How could this have happened? He should have been at home, but then his heart pulled him east toward a young man who represented. . . what . . . lost hopes.

It soon became obvious his mother saw the sorrow in his eyes. He had never been able to keep anything from her so Blaine hauled a chair over and sat. His eyes went up to Cooper, who stood at the end of the bed smiling. The mouth opened, and no words came out. Suddenly, Blaine buried his head in his mom’s hand sobbed.


	18. Happy New Year

Daniel came home to find his boys less than enthusiastic to see him. The words passing between them started off calmly and then Blaine lost it. Threatening his father, Daniel retreated to the den with Blaine following before Cooper stepped between them to break it up. For the rest of the day their father moved about the house, staying out of the way. It took a while, but Cooper warmed to him and started to chat. The youngest Anderson had trouble controlling his rage and avoided them both.  

The next afternoon, two dutiful sons brought their mom home to find their father sat in the living room with a cup of coffee on the table beside him. His eyes met with his wife for a moment and then he broke into sobs. With little hesitation, Pam sat on the chair next to the couch. They stared at each other for a moment and then began to talk.

The sight sent Blaine into an internal rage. Grinding his teeth, he stared at his father with a simmering lack of trust. The bandages on his mother’s cheek stood as a symbol which ate at his heart as the fingers of his right-hand dug into his palm causing pain. The pit of his stomach turned over and then Cooper touched him on the shoulder. Looking up at his brother, Blaine saw concern, but also calm. The older brother dragged his uncertain younger sibling off to the kitchen.

Eventually the adults separated, and Pam passed through the kitchen to get a drink before going upstairs. Tense silence prevailed and then the door to the den closed. The brothers looked at each other and then Blaine bounded up the stairs. Knocking on the door, he poked his head in to find his mother lying with her head on a pillow weakly smiling. She looked worn both physically and emotionally. Her son wanted to say something, but Blaine left her and walked down the hall to his room.  

Some time later, Blaine looked up when someone knocked on the door. “Come in, unless your dad.”

The door opened the older Anderson boy strolled over to the edge of the bed. “How are you doing?”

Blaine shrugged and released a huge puff of air. He pushed the textbooks piled on the duvet to one side and then lounged against the headboard. Studying took his mind off things as he dived into hated subjects, forcing himself to concentrate.

Cooper sat on the opposite side of the bed. “This is the worst I’ve ever seen it.

Again, Blaine sighed. “Why is he even here?”

“Mom called him.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me.”

“Why am I the last to know everything?!”

“You’re already wound up.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

“Dad’s sucking up.”

“I guess that means she’s not going to press charges.”

“Probably.”

“Fu . . . asshole.”

Cooper’s brows pulled together and then calmly added. “They need professional help.”

A scowl marred Blaine’s young face. “Lawyers?”

Other than an eyebrow going up, Cooper ignored the comment. “They need to talk it out.”

“Yeah, it might help.”

“Love can be a very powerful thing.”

“Could that be why I can’t give up on Kurt?”

“Have you been able to get hold of him?”

“Burt’s still there.”

“Cancer. That’s a tough one.”

“I’m willing to give him space, but this―” Blaine waved his arms around. “It’s killing me.”

“Hang in there, squirt.” Cooper shuffled closer to his little brother.

Smiling, Blaine reached over and patted his brother on the shoulder. “It’s funny, we never got along like this before.”

“I had no reason to care about my little brother until he fell in love.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“All kidding aside, seeing you with Kurt opened my eyes to how complicated you are. The whole thing made me think and then I talked to him.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a good man. I can see why you fell for him even if his taste in clothes sucks.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “At the moment I feel as if the anchor chain has been cut. I’ve called a dozen times since I got home.”

“You said it.” Cooper smiled. “He has a heavy subject on his plate.”

“I just want him to know I am here for him.”

“Deep down I think he knows that. He only needs to come out the other end. Sort of like mom and dad.”

“I don’t want to fight with them so I’m staying out of it.”

“You can’t avoid it.”

“It’s status quo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I stay out of dad’s way and help mom when he’s not around. When he’s being an ass, I come up here and listen to music or study or―”

“Call Kurt?”

Silence prevailed for a few moments and then Blaine shook his head. “I just wish I could speak to him.”

“Hey, little bro, you can talk to me. Why do you think I’m staying an extra week?”

“I appreciate it Coop. I feel so broken.”

“I’ve split up before. In time you’ll move on.”

“Did you love her?”

Cooper looked over at the bookshelf. “When I think back no or maybe, a little, but she was not the one.”

“Kurt’s the one for me.”

“There’s lots of young studs out there waiting to sweep you off your feet.”

“No, Coop, Kurt’s the one. I’ve known since he first walked down those stairs. He had a halo around him as if he walked out of a ball of light.”

“Really? Wow.” Cooper leaned onto the bed. “Friends of mine in LA said the same thing. They’re such lovebirds. I can only hope it happens to me when it find her.”

“I didn’t believe any of that, but then. . . bam . . . it strikes you in the face. I still don’t really trust it, but I can’t deny it either. I had crushes before, but nothing like this. He makes me feel whole.”

“You can make a wish tomorrow night at midnight.”

“A New Year.”

“Yup, new beginnings.”

“I can think of lots of things to wish for.” Blaine looked toward the door where he heard voices.

“I know.” Cooper’s eyes followed. “Remember to call Kurt, Burt and Rachel to wish them a Happy New Year.”

Blaine smiled. “Rachel and Kurt had planned to go to a big party, but with Burt’s there I doubt Kurt will go.”

“Are you going out?”

“There’s a party at Tina’s.”

“Do you think you would have gotten the same support in Dalton as you have in McKinley?’

Looking to the left, Blaine stared at the red and blue tie hanging from the side of the shelves. A warm smile stretched his lips. “I wanted to go back there after Kurt, and I broke up. Sam and the others showed me I was wrong?”

“Why were you wrong?” The look on Cooper’s face told his brother, he did not know this story. “Was the guy still there who tried to blind you?”

“Kurt was the target. I just got in the way.” Blaine sighed, and his face changed. Memories of the pain and the fear of surgery played on him. Kurt had been there all along visiting every day and making him feel safe. The poor boy worried. The look on his face made it blatantly obvious and even now the thought warmed Blaine’s heart.

Sitting up straight, Cooper gave his brother a concerned look. “That guy really didn’t like Kurt.”

“Sebastian, no. He didn’t and Kurt knew it. He tried to break us up and I didn’t see it.”

“You liked him?”

“He had a certain allure, but then I loved. . . still love Kurt.”

“Oh, my little brother, I do hope it works out.”

“Me too. To answer your question, when I went to Dalton to look around, I found someone else controlled the Warblers. Sebastian was there, but he was tame next to that fellow. Anyhow, as I said, my friends made me see the error of my ways. I couldn’t run from my issues so, then I tried to face them head on. That’s been wildly unsuccessful?”

“Hey, Blaine. You got along at Christmas. Kurt does not like to sing with just anyone.”

“You’re right there. He complains about not getting solos, but at the same time he does not like them outside the classroom. When we did Candles, he was so afraid.”

“You said that was his first solo in concert.”

Blaine smiled. “It was kind of flirty. . . but he didn’t like being put in the spotlight. He’s so cute.”

“And you love it.” Cooper tapped his brother on the arm. “Perfect team.”

“Yeah?” Blaine did not look convinced. “He’s grown so much since going to New York. I wonder if I will be able to catch up.”

Cooper grinned. “You will find your place with Kurt at your side.”

Blaine looked down at the duvet as a shadow passed over his face. “I hope he will be at my side.”

“You will and―” Cooper started, then he went silent due to the raised voices echoed from downstairs. Glancing at his watch he scowled. “Fuck, only an hour and a half.”

Emotion flashed on Blaine’s face, but before he could say anything Cooper raced from the room flinging the door open. Crawling off the bed, Blaine tore out into the hall and toward the stairs. Daniel’s voice rose from the kitchen overpowering his mother’s. A hand fell against the wall the moment a foot fell upon the top step. It sounded bad and then Cooper’s voice rose above the others as he pleaded for calm.

His rump hit the top step with a jolt and the hairs on the back of Blaine’s neck rose with his blood pressure. Elbows pressing against his knees, the palms of his hands pressed into his ears. The noise below rushed within his head and then he heard a loud yell. Looking up, his hands fell to his knees.

“―it doesn’t matter.” His mother’s tone cut through the battling voices. “You can’t keep pretending there are no bigger issues.”

“The only issue is―” Daniel’s tone rose and fell away quickly.

“Why bring this up now of all times.” Blaine’s mother sounded very angry.

“Why don’t we just call it a night,” Cooper’s voice interceded.

“Why, so she can hide from the truth. I have played your game for years and . . . I  . . . oh fuck this!” Blaine’s father’s voice suddenly fell away.

“What the hell do you want, Daniel!” Pam’s tone rose in pitch. “That was years ago.”

“Yes, and look where it got us.”

“It has nothing to do with anything.”

“It has to do with everything.”

“For Christ’s sake, Daniel I had no control over that.”

“You bloody well did!”

From where he sat, Blaine heard his mother being to cry. The teenager swore under his breath as his anger rose again.

“What the hell was all that about dad?” Cooper growled.

Daniel snapped. “Nothing to do with you!”

“I’m part of this family so it had a lot to do with me.” Cooper’s voice had a firmness to it Blaine rarely so.

“Daniel, let’s not go there.” Pam pleaded.

“Too fucking late. Our life was spoiled years ago and that little bastard ruined it.”

“What the―” Cooper’s voice got washed out by Pam’s yelling.

The words drove into Blaine’s head like a spike and the throbbing in his throat made it hard to breath. Throwing his arms up, he stomped down to the landing and ran for the front hall. Pulling on a heavy jacket and snickers the door slammed behind him. He doubted anyone heard over the screaming and crying.

Running on to the walkway he fell face first into a mound of snow. Lying there he screamed and then dragged himself up. Hauling the keys out of the jacket pocket, he piled into Pam’s car with no idea where he would go. Struggling to keep his mind on the road, he slowed and turned away from town. Blaring songs from his phone over the stereo, eventually he found himself at the park by the river. The ruts in the snow made it hard to control his mom’s little car. Sliding here and there, he turned the wheel to the right into the parking lot and the tires hit the ice and the car spun. It jolted to an abrupt stop throwing Blaine forward. The seat belt caught him, and a foot smashed into the break as he shoved the gearshift into park. Fingers tugged on the emergency break for good measure.

With his heart pounding in his throat, Blaine’s hand smashed into the steering wheel as he repeatedly swore. When his fit of rage subsided, he sat there trembling with his neck pulled into his shoulder pushing them up. Slowly his head leaned toward the horn where he drew in a deep, shaky breath—he had been right all along. Daniel had called him—that little bastard. The three words crushed sensitivity, leaving a defeated sensation in its wake. dafBiting his lip, he could not believe it. Sniffing back a tear, every fear he held came true in a flash.

After a few moments, calm washed over him and hazel eyes scanned the surround. On this cold, pre-New Year’s Eve, day, no one had been here other than a plow. With a snort, Blaine turned the engine off and shoved the keys in his pocket. Fingers brushed against his cell phone as he pulled it free. Staring at it, the device slipped from his hand, then dropped it on the center console. Staring at it for a second, he sighed and pushed the car door open. The abrupt blast brisk air in the face caught him off guard. In that instant he felt alive. Stepping out of the vehicle he looked up at the sky enjoying the solitude. Slowly his eyes went to the tracks he had made in the freshly driven snow. His face changed when he noticed the rear of his mom’s car pressed up against a pile deposited there by the snow plough. Walking to the back of the little car he sighed with relief. No damage.

Wrapping his arms over his chest, Blaine watched the wind lift the snow up into the air and carry it across the open field toward naked trees and the river. A tall cluster of spruce trees marked a place he knew well. Opening the hatchback, he rummaged around looking for the emergency kit. Pulling out a tightly packed plastic container dumped the contents out.

Climbing up over a mound of snow left behind by the plow, Blaine marched through the foot-deep snow. Icy flakes forced themselves up his pant legs where it quickly melted. Refreshing, but cold, instinct took him as he plowed on through the snow.

With a scarf clinging to his neck and the collar of his coat pulled up downcast boy sat on a large rock. Hunched over with a thermal blanket wrapped up over his head and shoulders the stiff fabric provided protection from the wind racing down the icy river. Sorry eyes stared at the hues of color dancing around him. The clouds turned red and pink as it slipped toward the horizon. Beautiful and uplifting Blaine smiled. In an hour it would be dark and then he would make up his mind.

He called the stone ‘their rock’. Kurt had never liked taking off his layers, but in this place, Blaine watched the gradual transformation. His lover may not have been aware, but Blaine always eyed him up. The soft, boyish curving of his thin body intrigued. A chill wind off the river would cause his nipples to perk up. He would smirk when something in Vogue caught his interest. Toes would wiggle and then stray along the hair of Blaine’s legs. They talked about music, school, the arts, plays, celebrities and themselves. Little secrets slowly became known along with their phobias. The shy boy Blaine met on the stairs at Dalton slowly opened up like a rare flower.

Hands tucked into his pockets, his mind shifted to Broadway. A few days ago, he walked passed famous theaters marveling at the sights. Father, son and estranged lover appeared happy regardless of the haunting undertone no one wanted to discuss—cancer. Without trying Kurt wangled Blaine into helping keep things upbeat. By itself, this gave Blaine hope they could at least salvage a friendship. Deep down the teen knew that would not satisfy him—he wanted Kurt in his life forever.

For the first time in weeks Blaine did something selfless. Then he came home to what, a disaster which left him believing himself an awful son and lover. A moment of what he thought would have been a release became a prison, which damned himself for the rest of his life. At night, when sleep finally came, he dreamt of two men dressed in jackets with tail walking horses down a path. Sadness filled their eyes as they argued about the difference between being proper and doing what their hearts told him. Proprietary won sentencing them to years of unhappiness.

Would the years be kind to his family? Would it be kind to him? Thinking about this only made his mood darker. If he could turn back time, he would but then what would that have taught him? Damned little. Leaning forward, Blaine rested his chin in his hands. The breath escaping his nose rose in large puffs of white. He should have brought gloves because is fingers turned blue.

In time the chill air and a numb bum compelled Blaine to move. Retreating to the car, he spun the engine up and blasted the heat. Sitting back, cool fingers slid through thick gel undoing its careful placement of his thick, curly locks. Remaining there for a long moment and then he drew in a deep breath. Slowly leaning forward, his head came to rest on the steering wheel. The head and eyes rolled up toward the sky while his mind went to his mom and then Kurt. Torn amber-brown orbs circled down as salty water blurred his vision.

“What a fool you’ve been Blaine Anderson,” he moaned hoping someone might hear him.

Feeling less than a man and more like a child, Blaine wiped his eyes and sat up. A puzzling thought invaded his meandering mind making him fell suddenly less confused. The nose scrunched up as the eyebrows pulled together. In the rear-view mirror, he could see a large white cloud billow into the darkened sky. Air forced through the vents warming the skin. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he sat there staring and then glanced down at the center console. The display on his cell told him there had been several calls. He could only guess—mom and Cooper. Staring, he felt nothing. The oddness of his calm felt out of place, but at this same time it soothed.

Time slipped by and the air about him became staler. Slowly his head moved from side to side. With a sigh, he picked the mobile up and his fingers pressed buttons. He paid no attention to the ringing of the phone until he heard the service pick up."

“Kurt . . . err . . . hi . . . it’s Blaine. I just wanted to say hello.” A loud sigh escaped Blaine’s lips and his head drooped. “I’m at the rock. It’s been such a mess . . . mom and . . . I feel . . . I don’t know . . . Oh, you don’t want to hear this. Just have fun and enjoy the New Year with your dad.”

A finger smashed into the red phone symbol as hard eyes fixed on the number with a frown. Tossing the device onto the passenger seat Blaine eyes followed it. The pumping of his heart became the ticking of the clock in his head. In a low, voice he murmured, “Who am I fooling, he no longer cares. No one cares.”

A stark yawn broke, he jarred his mind. Moaning, his eyes closed as the air rushing from the vents played through his messy hair. “Why the hell did I do that?”

The purring of the engine became his only company along with blowing snow outside. The wind gusted now and then casting white up into the air. Time passed, but Blaine lost track. His butt started to ache, and he shifted in the seat. Pulling his legs up and crossing them, his knees rested against the base of the steering wheel. Again, he yawned. “Little bastard.  You’re a goddamned bastard dad! I could never do anything good enough for you fucking asshole. Why do I even bother? You never cared . . . Kurt no longer cares.”

The stubby growth of the past couple of days caught the tears rolling down his cheeks. His mom commented the five-o’clock shadow made him look handsome, and so had Kurt. He hated it like the hair growing on his chest. At this moment he disliked a lot of things about his life. Weeks of hell finally stripped the last of his strength. Glancing about, he looked at the moonlight shining down on the snow. “I have lived not even twenty years and life seems worthless.”

Having half expected a response the silence felt deafening. “You’re a stupid, useless fool, Blaine Anderson. Utterly useless.”

Wind rocked the little car, causing Blaine to look up. Rolling his right hand over, he gazed at it and sighed. “All those sapping movies, Kurt liked. Hollywood A-listers paid to pine over each other and make it believable, I’ve haven’t even seen a penny for this pile of shit.”

His head bobbed up and down. “Sappy movies. Sappy songs. Where did they get us? Nowhere.”

A teen snorted to clear his throat as numbed sensed lulled him. “Cooper . . . new beginnings . . . ha! It’s done.”

The head rolled on the back rest toward the sound of the radio faintly played music from his cell. He listened as his eyes became harder to keep open. The run up of a song stirred Blaine’s mind and he began to sing. His words slurred.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e78hgMokz2I – sung by Darren Criss who pronounces ‘He’ or ‘He’ll in the famine but I’ll keep the male version.)

 

_Then I was young and unafraid_

_And dreams were made and used and wasted_

_There was no ransom to be paid_

_No song unsung_

_No wine untasted_

_But the tigers come at night_

_With their voices soft as thunder_

_As they tear your hope apart_

_As they turn your dream to shame_

_He slept a summer by my side_

_He filled my days with endless wonder_

_He took my childhood in his stride_

_But he was gone when autumn came_

_And still I dream he'll come to me_

_That we will live the years together_

_But there are dreams that cannot be_

_And there are storms we cannot weather_

_I had a dream my life would be_

_So different from this hell I'm living_

_So different now from what it seemed_

_Now life has killed_

_T_ _he dream I dreamed_

 

Sad eyes swiveled to the roof and he smiled. Picking up his phone swiping to the gallery a picture of Kurt popped up. Taken a few days ago, he leaned into his father laughing. Rachel had joined them for dinner at a great Italian ma and pop place around the corner. Nothing went wrong that night. Kurt enjoyed, and Blaine even found his foot pressing against his under the table. When Blaine moved his, that shoe found his ankle again.

Leaning back, the closed his eyes, a wave of tingling raced up his body. Feeling light-headed he let his head fall to the left. Narrow eyes looked out into the piles of snow made lighter by the light of the moon behind poking through the clouds.

“Maybe he will forgive me one day.” Blaine coughed, and his head spun into a drowsy world.

 


	19. Yes, New Years Day

Water fell over the edge where it pooled before running away into the darkness. Loose strands of curly hair poked up out of the liquid like twigs in a pond. Faint ripples lashed against the peak of the forehead just above the eyes. The nose and lips floated just above the tiny waves. An elbow rested on the edge with the hand disappearing into slowly turning moisture. Inky redness pumped from the wrists resting on a naked torso.

Cares and woos faded into emptiness. No thought. No emotion. No pain. Subtle motion and sounds became the only sign of life. Two competing edges mixed creating something which caused a toe to twitch—music.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XM_uptMaaw Artist Theo Tams.)

_Never one to give up so you dig in your heels_   
_No matter how bad you know it feels_

Long ago a fragile mind stopped listening to the warning signs within the numbness.

_You say you're coming to terms with the way that you are_   
_But you've forgotten who you could be_

Thump and then a long break.

_Look up ahead, it's something beautiful_

Exaggerated beating slowed with shallower breathing.

_Do you feel at a crossroad?_   
_You wanna leave, but you don't know_

Words vibrated through the water and the ears perked up.

_How to fly, how to let go, let go_

Fantasy overcame reality corrupting and draining the will.

_When you finally fit in, you never wanted to change_   
_It's so much safer to stay the same_

Shades of light, colour and darkness danced about each other, creating an odd feeling of being adrift.

_But it's time to move on and the courage will come_   
_If you remember that you are free_

Some aspect of the consciousness realized the irrational state of affairs.

_Look up ahead, it's something beautiful_

Thoughtless conflict twisted the stomach as if the body somehow screamed.

_Do you feel at a crossroad?_   
_You wanna leave, but you don't know_

Uneasy currents turned the consciousness inside out or flipped upside down while tumbling sideways all at once.

_How to fly, how to let go, let go_

Giving into the sensations, physical moans and groans lapsed into the melody.

_Forsaking all security, embracing the uncertainty_   
_And falling into this_

For a second the obscurity of a dreadful plight parted, and the mind recognized the importance of right in left.

_Remember this before you leave, how simple that the truth can be_   
_You are human and you are free_

An abrupt flash of reality and blue eyes blinked.

_Look up ahead, it's something beautiful_

The emotions involved in a shattered love invaded the dim, leaving an impression of a gentle touch.

_Do you feel at a crossroad?_   
_You wanna leave, but you don't know_

Belief and idealism lurched grasping at fragmented sentience.

_How to fly, how to let go, let go_

A door opened just a notch, bringing awareness.

_Do you feel at a crossroad?_   
_You wanna leave, but you don't know_

The essence of reality shifted into soft words the mind comprehended.

_How to fly, how to let go, let go, let go_

The last vowel resonated through the synapses of Blaine’s brain driving away the phantoms of hopelessness. A finger flicked and then fell still. Once again, a burdened mind saw a flash of speckled blue as if someone stared at him. As a swirl of brown hair with natural red highlights danced in the peripheral vision. Wetness glistened next to the bridge of the nose. The tear tumbled down a stubbled cheek as the image faded away into the morass of floundering thought. Time seemed to stand still within a stale breath.

The heart suddenly pulsed and then the chest exploded with coughing. The body rocked back and forth, before the head stuck something hard and cold. Hazel eyes flung open and a hand came up to cover the mouth. Pain radiated out from Blaine’s lungs as the contents of his stomach rose into his throat. Some aspect of a smothered mind grasped reality and the door he leaned against flung open. The blast of cold air brought life, even as the rush from his stomach splashed onto the snow.

Choking and spitting, Blaine’s felt horrible while the mind thrashed as it tried to find a reason. By some means the body found the strength to grip the door handle. The stomach churned, and he swallowed a bitter meal of self-depravation. Cheeks puffing acid rose in his throat and then he threw up again. The wretchedness of the bile dripping from his lips and the freshness of the air both revolted and renewed. The clouds kerbing rational thought dispersed, leaving Blaine stunned.

Hauling himself out of the car, Blaine slid on the puke freezing to the parking lot. Barely catching himself, he used the door frame to keep himself upright. Working around the car hood, he flopped down upon with a loud thud. Banging his head on the cold metal, Blaine chided himself for a long moment and then fell silent. Hands pressed into his face the sobs came without restriction. Uncontrollably quacking rocked the body, forcing him to spread his legs wider to remain standing.

The sound of his heavy breathing broke the eeriness and then this his stomach rumbled. Sliding down the hood, he hung his head down and tossed the contents of his stomach yet again. Little came up, but it hurt just the same.

Holding on to the lip in front of the windshield, Blaine did not move. Why did he allow his despair to overcome his better judgment? How would he explain this to his mom? Could he even tell her? Cooper would be furious and protective. Kurt? What about Kurt? With his father suffering with cancer and the circumstances of their breakup, Kurt did not deserve more grief. Everything lay heavily on Blaine making him feel weak and useless.

Rolling his head, hazel eyes looked to the trees. There amongst the shadows and falling snow loomed the spot where he had cried weeks before. He stared for the longest time watching the moon slowly rise opposite the last rays of the sun. The patterns of brightness dancing across the fast moving clouds inspiring a dull mind. The flashing billboards of Time Square came to mind swelling his heart with regret. Drawing in a deep breath the cold air cleansed his lungs, making him feel better. The taste in his mouth hinted of loathing.

White haze surrounded his head when he breathed out and the sound passing through his lips rung within chilled ears. The mind heard the words of a song once more as high, familiar notes played upon the edges of his consciousness like the whispering of an angel. He knew the artist from the television, but where had it come from?

Blaine wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Throwing himself onto the hood again, the warmth radiating from the engine provided comfort. How he wished it had been Kurt holding him? Or his mother? No, Kurt. The tightness in his chest spoke of what could have been. He could have been skating right now. He could have seen their dreams come true if he only had the strength to be patient. He could have. He could have. He could have. He lost it all.

The cheek resting against the paint where he heard the purred like a loud cat. He could not believe his life had come this far. The mind went oddly numb as his heart sank into a morass of conflicting emotions. He missed Kurt and loved him so much. He had been such a fool, but this—ending his life—proved unfathomable. The thought brought more sobs as the brain battled with the shame. Had a destroyed life brought him to this final outcome? No! Kurt? His mom? Dad? The bullying by a brother or in the halls of school. It all spiraled around him. He knew the car had slid into the snowbank and smelt the fumes and did nothing. God’s, did he want this?

Closing his eyes, Blaine’s chest heaved with a deep intake of air leaving him sad and happy in that odd, stupid way. Biting his tongue just to prove he did not dream, incredible emotion etched through his ribs. The head came up and then he slowly stood. Wrapping his arms about his chest and looked up at the dark sky where the moon poked through the clouds.

Rocking his head from shoulder to shoulder, Blaine slowly turned around. With a sigh, he walked to the back of the car where the hot exhaust had melted the snow. His heart virtually stopped—if it had not happened, he would be dead.

Crouching down, his hands came up to his face. “What would my . . . mom, Cooper . . . gods, Kurt . . . think if . . . no . . . this was an accident.”

Silence prevailed for a long moment and then Blaine spat out some chunks stuck to his teeth. Making a face he glanced about and then stomped over to some fresh snow. Scooping a handful up, he shoved it into his mouth and waited for it to melt. Swirling it about, he spat it out. Repeating the process several times he looked back at the car. Coils of exhaust rose from the tailpipe.

“Weak.” He moaned. “I am so . . . fuck’n . . . weak?”

His head drooped as his heart sunk. Looking back at the car the pool of freezing vomit made his stomach flip again. Folding his arms across his chest, he tried to suppress the sensations corrupting body and thought. Swallowing hard, he slowly walked to the car.

“Is this what is like to lose your soul?” Slumping down, into a crouched position still could not believe what had almost happened. Bile rose in his throat again and he rolled his neck.

When he calmed down, he looked to his left and stood. His foot fell hard and then sank into the snow. Unable to find the phrases to express quivering caressing his muscles, he bit his tongue to reassure himself. It's one way it felt as if every cell in the body vibrated, but in another way, it felt as if the same cells wailed against it. The fear overwhelmed telling him to keep away when he climbed back into the car. Smelling the vapors, he rolled down the window and then shut and sat there for a second waiting for the air to clear. When he felt confident, he shifted the car into drive and added a little gas. The wheels spun and then the vehicle lurched forward a few yards. Setting the transmission to park and turning the engine off his head came to rest on the back of the seat. Breathing in and out, the clean air made him feel less light-headed.

“Or . . . is this what it takes to find it?” The words echoed in his head making him feel better.

Staring into the trees Blaine suddenly began to cough and when it stopped his throat felt raw and dry. Water rolled down his cheeks as two hands pressed against his eyes and his head bowed.

“Wow, Blaine, you almost did it this time. That a boy, good way to escape your problems.” He sighed and then suddenly made a face. Leaning over he pulled at the latch to the compartment between the seats. “I hope you kept the gum supply up, mom. My mouth tastes like Finn’s old socks.”

Extracting a package of gum, Blaine grinned. “At least one thing has gone right today.”

A nail dug into the plastic protecting the gum and when it popped, he murmured. “It could be that easy. I wish love could be like that. So simple and so complicated at the same time.”

The right side of the face curled up into a smirk he knew so well with the aid of a mirror. Even though it had always been there he did not become aware of it until one fateful day he met Kurt. The idea it had been a special something for a special person warmed a chilled heart.

Looking to his right, his eyes fell upon the cell. Biting his lip, Blaine reached out and picked it. Grief-stricken eyes staring back at him in the glossy surface. He looked haggard but also like the handsome man Kurt might still love.

“Look up ahead, it's something beautiful.” The words thumped in Blaine’s chest mirroring a high heartbeat. Each breath filled him with hope.

“That song?” The last word hung there like echoes in a deep cavern. “Maybe it came to me to point the way to releasing my guilt?”

A finger pressed against the base of the phone disabling the security. Bravery touched a shattered heart and his fingers tapped until it stopped after words and then a beep. Releasing a loud sigh, he spoke in a meek voice, “Kurt, it's Blaine. Sorry about the last message. I just want to know how you are doing and I’m thinking of you. Please call me back. I . . . really . . . really . . . need to hear your voice.”

Unwilling to hang up, Blaine smiled as another tear etched a line down his cheek. The phone hung there for a while before falling to his jeans. He sniffled just before the final beep.

Large snowflakes dotted the windshield creating images of soft white flecks in the headlights. One deep breath and then another, he no longer trembled even though the mind yelled at him. He needed time. He needed love. He needed to hear a voice. He needed to finally decide which way his life would go―New Years Day. He would wait that long.

He lost all track of time until the phone he clutched in his hand suddenly vibrated. Jumping, he almost fumbled the device. Panting Blaine swallowed and closed his eyes and buzzed again. The screen brightened, and he finally noticed the call count. Sixteen missed text messages and five voices from different numbers—Cooper, mom, Sam and . . . dad? No Kurt. Disappointment rocked his heart.

Unable to move, he just stared until a partially nasty gust of wind burst through the window. Shocked back into reality, Blaine pressed the button to close it. Fear gripped him with the sound and the wobbly feeling returned. The mind flipped several times between fear and need. Sitting up straight he stuck his nose close to the narrow window opening and breathed in deeply.

“I can’t do this any more,” he moaned.

The body fell back into the seat again. “It hurts too much.”

The cell toppled from his hand striking the seat beside him. “I just can’t.”

The finger around the phone had gone white with the tension. It vibrated as if it somehow knew. Clutching his chest, he peered at the number and then scrambled to accept the call.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Sam’s voice exploded onto the phone.

Surprised, Blaine struggled with his thoughts—a human voice. He listened to a human voice. The heart froze when he realized he could not tell Sam or anyone. They would not understand, but his mom would know. She always knew.

“Jesus, Blaine!” Sam sounded no less calm.

Putting the phone between his legs, Blaine buried his head in his hands and mumbled, “Sam?”

“Cooper called eleven times thinking I would know where you are.” Sam accented certain words.

In a mournful voice Blaine replied, “I needed to think.”

“Bloody hell, Blaine,” Sam sucked in an audible breath. “Everyone is worried about you.”

A frown pulled at Blaine’s lips. He had to tell. He needed to hide. He felt mortified and the strain in his tone revealed much. “I know.”

“Where are you?” The sharp edge to Sam’s tone had dropped.

Lowering his hands, Blaine tucked them in his pockets. His eyes went to the trees where ‘their rock’ lay next to the river. He sighed, and a numbness ran up his back, he glanced in the rear-view mirror and the frozen puke highlighted by the shimmering moon on snow. “I’m down by the river.”

“Blaine, what the hell is going on?”

“I’m sorry, you got involved, Sam.”

“Talk to me, damn it!”

“I just could not take any more. It’s been hard since I got back.”

“Is this all about Kurt?”

“I don’t want to speak about it.”

“Come off it, Blaine!”

Blaine’s head sank. The only one person knew him better and he faced his own problems in a far off city. “It’s a little bit complicated.”

“Try me.” Sam’s voice sounded strained.

Blaine did not know how to respond, but without Kurt, Sam had become his best friends. They hung out and sang together just as Kurt and he had. A quivering ran up Blaine’s spine and his eyes narrowed.

“I know you’re still there I can hear you panting,” Sam’s voice had shifted from angry concern to caring. “Speak to me.”

Blinking and loudly exhaled, Blaine moaned, “I need a coffee.”

A relieved sigh passed through the phone. “I’ll let Cooper now I’ve found you, but I’ll won’t tell him where. Meet me at the Lima Bean. I think it’s open.”

“Until midnight.” The discomfort in his chest waned.

“I am calling you back when I am done with her brother. Just show up.”

“Okay, okay. You’re all heart today Sam.”

“You scared the shit out of me, bro.”

“Sorry.”

“Blaine, I can’t have my best bud swimming under the ice.”

Gulping down the air caught in his throat, Blaine felt huge regret.

The coffeehouse had a large clientele for ten in the evening the day before New Year’s Eve. People sat about talking and laughing, giving the venue an electric atmosphere. Standing in the door, he could not remember the last time he had been here. Raw memories lived at almost every table and for a moment he almost bolted. Steeling his nerves, he drew in a long breath of air smelling roasted coffee finding it soothed raw emotion.

Sam rose from a coveted window seat when Blaine approached him. Wrapped his arms about his friend blond teen pulled Blaine into a friendly and protective hug. A week ago, Blaine hugged Kurt at the skating ring and melted. Tonight, Sam’s close proximity created tingling down in his midsection. The former Warbler did not like where his mind went, but he could not deny his thoughts. In some ways it felt creepy, but the way he walked, and those lips mesmerized. For some reason it made Blaine fell alive.

Guilt struck, and Blaine quickly withdrew. Turning away, he did not want Sam to see the heat rising in his cheeks, His breath caught, and conflicted thoughts crashed against what had happened earlier. God, no! Did these feelings mean Kurt meant nothing? Struggling to swallow, he splayed his fingers wide and let out a short puff of air.

“Blaine?” Sam gave his friend a look as his nose turned up as if he smelt something not just right.

Standing next to his friend made Blaine feel rather awkward and nervous in the weirdest way. Oblivious to the smell of puke adhered to his shoes, he struggled go gather his thoughts. The feeling of his life slipping away, caused his head to spin like a lingering like a toothache.

Green eyes narrowed as if Sam sensed something and the grin, which followed spoke of concern. “Took your time. I thought I would have to dredge the river.”

Slipping his coat off, Blaine felt incredibly uncomfortable. Inclining his head, he mumbled. “Sam, I’m sorry.”

Carefully folded his scarf and placed it on the table hazel eyes roamed Sam. The tight, bright red sweatshirt the blond wore made Blaine smile. He looked great. Blaine’s stomach rolled leaving him feeling expectant and a little angry.

Looking down at the large cardboard cup on the table, Sam grinned. “Go get yourself something. I’m not going anywhere.”

Smiling at his friend, Blaine headed for the lineup. Standing there as it inched forward, he considered the day. Cooper probably roped Sam into being the search party because he knew Blaine habits. Knowing at least two people cared for him lifted Blaine’s spirits. He could forgive Kurt but then he also felt let down. He had honestly thought they had gotten over that hump, but, then, he no longer knew. The teen with the green eyes proved steadfast and true. Well, Kurt had too . . . until recently and then . . . weakness brought this on himself and now he paid the price.

Standing in the short line made him think of Kurt and the day they both admitted they had been someone’s boyfriends before. The sentiment moved him as butterflies rose in his stomach as a bead of sweat edged down his back. The boy took his breath away, he still did, but then? Hazel eyes went back to the corner where Sam stared out the window. A large puff of air raced through his nose.

It took a while for him to get his coffee and something to snack on before he returned to Sam. Blaine sat with a huff and tossed a bag of cookies on the table.

“It’s good to see you know my stomach?” Sam calmly acknowledged his friend.

“Thanks.” Blaine grinned as he cupped his hands around the hot cardboard cup. His fingers quivered in rhythm with the thumping in his chest. Fear etched an ugly line across his heart. Mom, dad, Sam, Kurt and death swirled like a tornado within his mind.

“You alright?” The weakness in Sam’s voice gave his feelings away.

Blaine lied. “I think so.”

“Were you running from your parents or Kurt?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s simple English, though I could make it difficult if you like.”

Frowning, Blaine sat back and sipped his coffee. His brows folded into each other and then he pushed his lips out and finally admitted, “Both.”

A grin parted Sam’s lips, and he said, “Now that you got it off your chest, where do you want to start?”

Being apart from Kurt hurt beyond anything he had felt before, but having Sam so close felt good. Yes, New Years Day. Survival demanded it.

“I know you. You’re a broader―” The blond’s face pulled together. “That’s it a brooder. Now out with it.”

Giving Sam an odd look, the pump in his chest thumped against his ribs. Blaine sipped his latte and decided to be up-front. “My dad beat-up my mom when I was in New York.”

“No?” Sam almost dropped his coffee as his eyes bulged wide.

“Mom and Cooper didn’t want to ruin my trip, so they didn’t tell me until I got back. Cooper picked me up at the airport and it took forever to get it out of him.”

“Blaine, I never realized.”

“And Kurt’s dropped off the radar. He hasn’t returned a call since I left.”

“You were getting along?”

“Burt was there.”

“Maybe he and his father have been busy. There’s lots to see in New York.”

“I’ve thought of that.”

“You said you sang together like old times.”

“Yeah, we did.” Blaine frowned. The two friends had not seen each other since Blaine returned home. They talked over the phone a few times, but not much else. Sam’s family visited.

Shifting in his seat, Sam looked as if he played poker. “So, this is more to do with your family.”

“Yes, but . . . I will have to wait and see what happens with Kurt. He has a lot on his plate with―”

“With?”

Blaine sighed. “I should not be telling you this, but Burt has cancer.”

Sitting back, Sam’s face went pale. “Oh my god. How’s he doing?”

“They caught it early. He’s starting treatments in January. Please keep it to yourself.”

“Okay. And Kurt?”

“Shocked. Upset. Being Kurt.”

“Burt wanted you to help.”

“Yes, but I think he would like to see Kurt and I patch it up.”

Gazing into Blaine’s light brown eyes, Sam pointedly asked, “You still love him?”

“I don’t . . . yes . . . very much.” Blaine’ face softened as he fondly smiled, and he blushed. How could he be looking at Sam like that?

Sam leaned forward.

Blaine bit his lip.

Sam said, “Look, bro, we all knew what both you and Kurt can be like.”

“Yeah.” Blaine’s voice shook because the single word echoed in his head like a gong.

Sam smirked. “Blaine, you know Kurt has a martyr complex.”

Chuckling, Blaine smiled. “Thanks Sam. I needed that.”

“We all have bad days, Blaine.” Sam sat back and sipped his coffee.

“That’s the half of it.” Blaine held back what he wanted to say. Shame and angry battled beneath his ribs prevented him from spilling his guts about everything.

“So, are you coming to the party tomorrow night?”

Folding to hands on the table with elbows pressed side by side, Blaine hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“You can ripe your shirt off again.” Sam winked. “Tina liked it.”

Blaine rolled his eyes and burst into a large smile.

“Come one Blaine, it will give you a break from home.” Sam cocked his head to one side as his eyebrows rose.

“I don’t know about that.” Blaine made a face. Gum and coffee had not rid his mouth of the taste of vomit and failure. “As I said, Burt’s still there.”

“More the―” Sam stopped suddenly. “Is that your phone?”

“Probably Cooper.” Blaine intended to ignore it.

“You had better pick it up.” Sam pointed at Blaine’s jacket. “He’ll want to give you shit.”

Shaking his head, Blaine fumbled for the phone and then his chin dropped.

“What?” Sam whispered.

Blinking, Blaine expression softened, and he activated the phone he visibly shuddered. His voice came out low and husky. “Hey . . . Kurt.”


	20. Sin Against The Soul

A tear ran down a cheek, followed by a heavy sigh. Hazel eyes scanned up the body of his best friend, his lover and husband to a quiet and stunning face. Never had he met someone more human, so beautiful and complete. His passion for life and all it offered marked his passage through time. The touch of his hand and a beating heart overcame the personal monsters stalking all living things—loathing and inner doubt.

His head tilted to the left and the remaining strands of curly hair caught in an old sweater. Where had all those gorgeous curls gone? Sad eyes glanced to the wall and all the pictures taken over a long and happy life. Kurt and Blaine in the park with the kids next to Kurt and Blaine at dinner or the two at Blaine’s high school graduation. In them all they both had robust heads of hair even though Kurt dyed his locks until the demons of vanity and celebrity faded with increased age. As the years passed, they learned to laugh at those demons. Yes, they continued to deal with their issues. Yes, they always loved each other even in the darkest of times.

For Blaine, an incredibly low point marked the climax of a year. An old man recalled the suffering and the deep underlying desire because, in his mind, Hazel plus blue equaled love from the first moment their orbs met. The adoring and sometimes dismissive man held Blaine together. Then came a sin against the soul which left him tossing in his sweat as the horrible truth gnawed a hole in his heart. Old Blaine remembered barely talking to his father and his friends easily picked up on the fact something bothered him. A teen covered it up by allowing Sam to tell his friends about his parents constant fighting. It eased the questions, but not the terror gripping a young mind.

Regret touched an already fragile heart, but Blaine kept the truth of his greatest failure from his mom. She lived a wonderful life filled with the joys of loving sons, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Even as she lay in a bed looking up at her son with bright eyes Blaine’s heart locked up a damning secret. When the moment of her last breath approached, Blaine held her hand tightly in his with Kurt standing beside him with his hand on his husband’s shoulder. Pam’s eyes spoke of love and a hidden truth. When she finally passed, Blaine felt a dark spot on his heart lift as if his mother somehow knew.

Pain crashed into an ailing body and an old man stiffened as emotion dug into a decaying heart. All his life he had called it an accident. Only once did he admit otherwise and until that time, he suffered in silence. The lesson learned turned out harder than he thought. An infatuation with a dear friend troubled Blaine but it also allowed him an outlet for harmful emotions. An awkward conversation with Kurt that dreadful night eased a shredded heart. Sporadic conversations followed an unfulfilled vow.

January ended with a bang—Kurt blew up. His former boyfriend called out of the blue upset about something which ended headed for Cheating Avenue. Blaine countered with text cheating and then it went downhill from there. Dear Sam held his hand, well not literally, during the two days it took for him to calm down.

Days later a young man sat sulking on his bed fully clothed. Leaning against huge pile of pillows, he pulled the comforter up to keep the chill off from the partially open window. Intent eyes studied the course catalog of several colleges and universities. He had told Kurt he wanted to go to NYADA but now he had second thoughts when he discovered New York University had world renowned performing arts program. Cooper told him to go to the University of Southern California, but the west coast felt like a defeat. Two ex-lovers may not be seeing eye-to-eye, but the connection between them held by a fraying thread.

Blaine sighed. He felt worse because the last few days had been especially hard. Shaking his head, he looked out the window where the wind howled driving a combination of snow and ice. The sound thrashing trees reminded Blaine of his flighty moods. New York University? The idea both excited and worried him. It would put him in the same city as Kurt, and how would that work out? Did he even want to be in that huge city if he did not have Kurt in his life? Maybe California? What about Toronto? Maybe? Maybe?” Maybe? A shiver ran up his spine, leaving a foul taste in his mouth.

Turning another page, he studied the course before him—dance. A smirk twisted lips and then his eyes shot open when something banged in the hall and raised voices dug into the teen. Covering his eyes with the palms of his hands, Blaine tried to keep it altogether. Drawing in a deep breath, he sat there looking out the window. Running his hands through his hair, his mind spiraled back to a snowy parking lot. The pain in a young man’s chest spread into his back and down his arms.

Resting his head against a clinched fist, he closed his eyes and waited for the discomfort to pass. Ever since New Years he experienced little aches I his back and chest. In the beginning the frequency bothered him so he complained to his mother about not feeling well. A doctor visit later, he felt better even though he did not tell the physician about the pains he felt in detail. The family general practitioner told his mother, Blaine experienced a growth spurt. Okay, Blaine went with it since he finally reached five feet six and a half.

The boy knew better as he put it down to stress and depression. His classes suffered, and his mother had spoken to him about that, thus he pulled his socks up. Daniel approached the issue of grades in a more dramatic fashion by grounding Blaine until his graded improved. His mother let it slip when her husband did not pay attention.

The ache in his arms and back subsided after a few long breaths leaving Blaine a little light-headed. Slowly opening his eyes fell upon glistening gold on his wrist. With a sigh, the fingers of his left hand traced the links bringing back the tender moment, Kurt gave it to him. He took it off a couple of weeks after their break up hanging it on picture of Kurt next to his bed. At night he would stare at it and on occasion, like today, he would put it on to remember. The weight and feel of the links soothed after they fought.

Suddenly his cell vibrated, and he jumped. Shocked back to reality he turned toward the nightstand where the number flashing on the screen—New York. His heart virtually stopped and then he jumped to pluck up the phone.

“Kurt?” Blaine could not believe Kurt had called. He listened and then added, “Okay, give me one sec.”

Hanging up, Blaine stared at the rectangular device for a few seconds and then let out a sigh. They had not Skyped since the misstep which caused everything. His finger shook as he tapped on the symbol. The program loaded agonizingly slow. Scrolling down the list of people, he hesitated because their last conversation ended in complete disaster. What could he possibly want? What if this ended in another fight? How would he handle it? Still, Kurt called and wanted to talk. How could he say no?

A handsome young man felt nervous as the sounds of call filled his ears. When it disappeared, and Kurt’s beautiful face filled the screen and Blaine found his heart beating in his throat. He still looked as cute as ever even though his smile looked a little strained. Captured by those incredible blue eyes, Blaine breathless said, “Hi”

Kurt nervously shuffled and softly replied, “Hi.”

Blaine’s heart fluttered. What to say and when it came out, he felt less than impressed with himself. “Skype, this is a surprise.”

“Yeah.” Kurt’s face showed the struggle he tried to hide.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I saw Burt the other day. We met for coffee.”

“He tells me he is doing alright. He’s never been a good liar.”

“Your father would never lie to you, Kurt. You probably already know the treatments have gone well.”

“The side effects.”

“He looked really good, Kurt. When I saw him two weeks ago, he looked . . . let’s not go there.”

“I can’t imagine if―”

“It’s not going to happen Kurt. They caught it early.”

“But he’s still working.”

“He’s attending committee meetings and not much else.”

Kurt nodded his head. “I’ll need to―”

Watching Kurt suffer caused pain in Blaine’s chest. “You sure you’re alright?”

Kurt sat on his bed in the loft in New York surrounded by darkness. The light from the screen cast shadows on his face, but Blaine noticed Kurt pale. At the same moment his eyes caught sight of something on is bed stand—a ring made of bubble gum wrappers. His chest tightened because it had not been there when he visited at Christmas.

Wide-eyed, Kurt stared for a couple of seconds and then moaned, “What am I going to do without him?”

“Listen to me, Kurt.” Blaine leaned closer to his face would fill the entire screen on the other side. “Your father will be fine. The treatments have kicked him, but he’s upbeat and Carole tells me he is still making his stupid jokes.”

“I guess that’s a good thing, but―” Kurt’s face hardened, and he backed away. “Why is it you know more than I do?”

“As I said, I saw him only a few days ago. He knows you’re busy at school.” Blaine felt the trap tighten around him and Blaine’s head drooped. In a low voice he said, “Let’s not fight?”

“Yes.” Kurt looked upset and then his head dropped. “Let’s not fight,”

Fearing he would be cut off, Blaine shuffled forward on the bed. “Kurt?”

“Sorry.” Kurt blinked, and half smiled. “I’ve been worried. He is not giving me a straight answer and you’ve always been honest with me.”

The adorable man played aloof, but Blaine understood the soft side beneath the tough exterior. When they first met it irritated him, but then he came to accept it. School had not been easy on him. Separation from friends and family wore Kurt down. Yes, he had Rachel, but things had changed so much. Kurt had changed, but then he had not.

The subtle touch of guilt nagged at Blaine making him feel less than the buoyant young adult he knew himself to be. As good of an actor he could be, he knew he could never hide from Kurt. Feeling awkward she grinned and then sadly said, “Errr . . . maybe I should get going. I know you would like to call your dad and I don’t want to keep you.”

The handsome young man on the screen blinked as if he had not expected the statement. “Blaine, you don’t . . . have to.”

“Kurt, I―” Blaine brushed the stray hair away.

“Blaine, can I speak, please?” Kurt looked shaken up.

Blaine softly replied in a grave tone, “Okay.”

Kurt just sat there gazing into the camera and terror touched Blaine’s heart. Those wonderful blue eyes narrowed, and his skin tone paled ever so slightly. It always happened when Kurt considered something serious.

“Blaine,” The man in New York closed his eyes. When they opened, he softly added, “I owe you a big apology.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. Wow? What?

Kurt went on knowing all too well what the look meant. “The last time we talked I was acting like an ass. I’m sorry.”

A bead of sweat rolled down his back even though the room felt cool. The look on his face must have shocked Kurt because he backed away from the camera.

“I can make excuses, but then―” Kurt grinned and looked away. “Maybe I should―”

“No, Kurt . . . please . . . It’s okay,” Blaine half lied. Estranged or not, Blaine cared for Kurt and always would.

“No, Blaine, it’s not. Someone hacked the computers at NYADA and . . . well . . . you know the rest.”

Blaine’s expression changed. “Kurt?”

“Rachel received a message from Finn that got her really upset. When she got hold of him it all became clear very quickly.” The look on Kurt’s revealed his shame. “Look, I’m really sorry. I know I shouldn’t have but I went right off the deep end. Whoever did this read my journals and emails?”

Dark brows squished together as Blaine straightened his back. “And made it look as if I sent something?”

Kurt nodded. “Yeah.”

Brows pushing toward the center, Blaine considered what he had just been told. “I get this but . . . with the rest of it?”

Kurt looked worried. “It?”

The lump in Blaine’s throats hardened. “Let’s just say New Year’s was a complete bust.”

“Your parents?” Kurt gave his ex-boyfriend and sympathetic look. He had felt Daniel’s wrath more than once.

A frown marred Blaine otherwise perfect face as a look of agony exploded in his heart. Breathing in, he wanted to tell all but then he could not.

“Sorry.” Kurt swallowed. “And I just brushed you off.

“Your words more than stung.” Sudden shame struck Blaine with the sharpness of his tone. Bowing his head, he said, “Sorry, Kurt. That was cruel of me.”

Pushing his lips from side to side, Kurt admitted, “No need. I deserved it.”

Glancing away for a few seconds Blaine looked back and asked, “Where does this leave us?”

The young man on the other side of the connection remained silent as his face contorted ever so slightly. Then he looked right at Blaine and stated, “We’re friends? Right?”

The look on Blaine’s face mirrored the detonation against his ribs. “I hope?”

“We’re friends, Blaine,” Kurt enforced with a slightly raised voice. “You’re my best friend.”

Biting his tongue, Blaine whispered, “Yeah.”

“Things might be complicated with me seeing―” Kurt suddenly stopped as if he realized something and his cheeks flushed pink.

The Titanic sank deep within Blaine’s chest because that word—seeing—meant only one thing. Holding his breath, salty water balled up in the corners of Blaine’s eyes as his forehead scrunched up. He never considered this possibility. The chest rose with a huge intake of air and then fell hard. In that second, he sat in a car breathing in toxic fumes. Every muscle in his body felt life rubber as that horrible sensation encroached on his hopes and dreams. The knot in his stomach pulled his intestines tight making keeping it down became difficult.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice rose in pitch and volume and his face sagged.

Drawing in another deep breath, Blaine sat there and then he looked up. Terror ringed those wonderful blue eyes where tears welled up. One rolled down a cheek and Blaine wanted to reach up and wipe it away. Kurt had moved on.

Pain flashed across Kurt’s brow. “Blaine, don’t look that way.”

Biting his lip, the curly headed teen closed his eyes.

“Blaine, please don’t.”

“Kurt . . . how do expect me to feel?’

“Disappointed. Sad. Angry.”

“Let down. I . . . still . . . shit.”

“Blaine, please. I don’t want to open old wounds. I just want us to be friends . . . best friends.”

“Yes . . . friends.” Blaine did not sound convinced.

“Yes, friends.” Repeating the words and infliction revealed Kurt’s hesitation.

Blaine’s stomach turned as stubborn hope failed with the tears blurred his vision. Knowing he could not hide from Kurt, he tried his best to keep the torrent of emotions in check. He lost the best thing in his life and his heart screamed. He should have died. The pain spread down to the bottom of his feet and then a finger reached for the off switch.

“Blaine!” Kurt wailed at the motion.

Blaine stopped and hazel eyes closed as the hopes of youth spiraled down the drain. The pounding in his chest ripped at his ribs and tore at his temples. Slowly the head fell further toward his chest as his palms covered his eyes. Lost. Ruined. Alone. Deceitful. Coward. Loser. Disloyal hurt the most.

“Blaine, please speak to me?” Kurt pleaded. Leaning toward the camera so his face enlarged on the screen.

Shaking his head ever so slightly, Blaine fought to restrain his angry thoughts. In a strained voice he murmured, “Nothing.”

Honest concerned Kurt sort of grinned. “Come off it, Blaine. I know you and that is not your happy face.”

“No, it’s . . . what’s the―” Blaine slammed his lips tight as he turned away from the camera finding it hard to breathe.

Running his hand through his hair, Kurt reached out as if he might cancel the connection and then his hand fell. “Blaine, I don’t expect you to understand or even accept, but I needed―”

“Kurt don’t explain it to me,” Blaine glanced back at the camera knowing his eyes looked red. “I understand more than you can believe, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Ever since that night everything had been a crappy mess.”

“Blaine?” Kurt choked. Blaine rarely swore.

‘What do you―” Blaine covered his eyes again and shook his head. “Let’s just say, other than a few high points the last few months have sucked.”

Neither spoke nor looked at each other for the longest time with neither hung up. Biting his lower lip, Kurt finally muttered, “Christmas?”

Blaine tried to smile it felt like too much work. “And Thanksgiving. You have no idea how much that call meant to me. Seeing you at Christmas felt so . . . perfect. Then back home to a pile of . . . shit.”

“Blaine, I know you’re upset with me but . . . I don’t want to go there. I knew your family life wasn’t the best. New Years shocked me.”

The spike in Blaine chest scared the teen—fucking hell!

“Blaine, please don’t look like that. I’m sorry.” Kurt bit his lip. “Damn it, Blaine!”

The tone forced Blaine to stare.

Sighing the words passing over Kurt’s lips came out calmer. “I miss you.”

The words tore in to Blaine and he turned away. He missed Kurt but then, Blaine did not want to think of it.

“Bugger it, Blaine,” Kurt pulled his words up short and drew in a deep breath. “I didn’t want it to go this way.”

“Too late.” Blaine moaned.

Rolling his head, Kurt leaned toward the camera. “I miss talking to you. I miss laughing with you. I miss your voice and that sexy smile. I miss singing with you. You will always be my best friend.”

Confused, Blaine blurt out. “Jesus, Kurt, what do you want from me? You tell me you want to be friends, but then―”

Kurt’s head fell, followed by dreadful silence. It felt like it lasted for an eternity.

He could not do this. Not again. The words. The looks. It killed him. Emotion overpowered thought and Blaine abruptly yelled, “I still love you.”

There, the zipper fell, and it all hung out. Now came the internal battle on either side to recover from a subject neither of them had been ready to deal with. Regardless of the awkwardness, Blaine felt good. Kurt’s face had fallen even though Blaine noted the twinkle in his eyes.

The man on the screen blinked and then he glanced away. To the untrained eye it appeared normal, but Blaine knew better. Trembling, Blaine said in a tone which could barely be heard, “I should go.”

Blue eyes locked on hazel. ”Blaine, please . . . don’t.”

“I . . . I―” Blaine shook his head and his head fell to the left as he looked away.

Kurt’s lips pulling into his mouth and then said in a low, sad voice. “I . . . like you.”

Like? Like had many meanings, but not love. Unnerving silence returned, and Blaine looked out the window. It snowed in earnest now, just like New Years. Closing his eyes, a tear squeaked out and down his cheek.

“Ah . . . are you going to . . . Mr. Schuester’s wedding?” Kurt suddenly blurted out as if he tried anything to prevent either of them from hanging up.

The sudden heavy pounded in Blaine’s chest almost bowled him over. The colour drained from his face, and he awkwardly swallowed. “What?”

“Are you going to the wedding?” Kurt tried to smile. His eyes looked red and puffy.

“Wow.” Blaine held a hand against his chest. “That came out of right field.”

Gloomy blue eyes stared back. “I . . . just didn’t . . . sorry.”

“Kurt, it’s okay.” Blaine gave him a weak smile. The palpitating of his heart matched the beat of a rock band. “Are you bringing―”

“No!” The word exploded from Kurt’s mouth without an ounce of thought. Stumbling to recover, he quietly added, “Are you going―”

Arching his back to release the tension in his shoulders Blaine wondered why they talked about this. The conversation hurt him, and he knew he should hang up, but he could not. Wiping his eyes, he said in an almost normal tone. “Tina asked me, but Mercedes got to me first.”

“Mercedes will be there?” Kurt sounded surprised.

“Yeah. She called me in early January.” The difficulty Blaine experienced must be playing on his face. “I think Tina’s going with Mike.”

“Oh?” Kurt looked almost hurt.

The look on Kurt’s face amused Blaine. His ex-boyfriend fought with himself just as Blaine did. Breathing in, Blaine tried to sound upbeat. “I don’t think Mercedes would mind if you joined us. I think she would all love to see you. They all would.”

“Even you?” The words sound tentative.

Blaine literally had to pinch himself to say the right thing. “Even me.”

“Maybe we can sing together.”

“I was asked to sing at the reception.”

“Fun.”

“You want to join me?”

“If it wouldn’t freak you out.”

“You choose a song we both know.”

“I can do that.”

Blaine landed on his back with a shit eating grin on his face. Three hours before Kurt had fished the room key out of his pocket and minutes later his ex-boyfriend pulled a fussy haired into a dark hotel room with a big, silly smirk. Blaine expected something raunchy, but the opposite happened. Kurt took command and with tender care removed Blaine’s tie while smothering him in tender caresses and passionate kisses in the soft spot behind his ear. Expert fingers found the ticklish point in the small of his back under the belt line.

Blaine melted as his head tumbled back, allowing Kurt full access. The wedding might have fizzled, but the jilted groom insisted the party go on. After some reluctance, the festivities swing into full swing. For two ex-lovers it felt like the old days. Kurt and Blaine sang, danced and made all sorts of jokes and now, this. The man Blaine had hurt months before slowly undressed him as he nibbled on Blaine’s clavicle. His mind yelled at him to stop, but then a warm tongue racked his sternum. Overwhelmed with emotion and unbridled longing, the warnings of his mind crumbled as he threw himself at Kurt.

The two toppled to the bed as Blaine’s tongue reached deep into Kurt’s throat. Restraint failed. Everything he felt for the past few months spiraled away, leaving incredible renewal. Since his fall from grace he had been starving for the taste of Kurt—sweat—those lips all over his body. He wanted everything they lost back.

After they had satisfied Blaine’s months of abstinence, they lay together looking at each other. For Blaine it felt like their first time where hazel drifted within pools of sparkling blue. It had been flawless and all so real. It, however, did not surprise Blaine when Kurt pulled away and stood. For a second Blaine felt the shame of a one-night stand and the need to fight back tears.

Now lay there alone bathed in the loving afterglow. Pulling the pillow Kurt had laid against his chest and Blaine buried his head into it drawing in a familiar scent. The locks on a damaged heart split apart, giving the smiling man, a brilliant new hope. Hazel eyes went the door, and for a second, he recalled the look in his ex-lover’s eyes when he glanced back. Kurt had enjoyed and now struggled with what he initiated.


	21. Trapped

Ever since Valentine’s Day aborted wedding Kurt and Blaine had been getting along. Well, as good as it could be considering Kurt dated someone in a city hundreds of miles away. The real talking did not start until the end of the month, and similar to their weekend of sexual excitement, Kurt started it. This led to more frequent communication, which again, usually started with Kurt. Okay, an old man recalled sending texts to his estranged lover, but then, Kurt did not have to reply.

It began innocent enough, well as innocent as―wow Kurt you filled me up. A cute smiley face a little while later led to others. Honestly, young Blaine enjoyed the idea of flirting with his ex. As older couple, when they talked about those days, certain truths saw the light of day. Only then did it hit how much if cause unseen conflict. Of course, the deed had been done and two babies in a crib made the issue redundant. They laughed and shared an intimate moment, even though a very elderly Blaine felt guilty at this point in his life where hazel stared at lifeless eyes. One night, long ago, he sent a naughty text―wow, Kurt you filled me up―and then the phone rang. Beaming at the sound of Kurt’s sexy voice, Blaine soon realized two things. First, a sensually veiled statement caught Blaine off guard though the meaning found its mark. Second, Rachel and Santana debated something accompanied by a male voice the teen in Lima did not know. The person called to Kurt, who told this person he spoke to his father. Well, that took Blaine for a loop. 

The little nagging voice did not take long to find a place within Blaine’s thoughts as ex-boyfriends talked more spawning more questions. Why did Kurt flirt with him? Did Kurt want to play two fields? Did this person, please Kurt? Had all their conversations been some sort of jealousy game? What did Kurt and his new . . . person do together? Did they hold hands walking down the street? What plans had they made for their future? It all sent Blaine into a tizzy as he tried to void several terms—slut, liar, toy, blame, love. 

The ‘L’ word? Now he loathed the ‘L’ in that context of this new man. After all his heart pounded Kurt’s name with every pump. Then an ‘oh my god’ second hit and everything crashed around him. Obviously, he fooled himself. Yes, that had to be it, but then Kurt kept dropping words which could mean love―adore, endearing and sweet. Within a week, Blaine became more than a little uncomfortable. 

The more Kurt revealed Blaine’s brooding intensified. Valentines hung there like a raw sore leaving Blaine with a deep emptiness. He missed the closeness, the tender touches and, yes, even their heated discussions, but this? He thought the mess in the fall left him confused, but, now, he had no idea how to describe it to himself. At times he wanted to scream—fuck it—and then we remembered what his butt felt by the end of the weekend fling and the way he played Blaine like a fine instrument. 

The f-word formed his throat and he looked to his right at something else in the hope it would clear his mind. Dark clouds hovered on the edge his thoughts, dropping light flakes of early March snow. As the evening wore on the niggling comments in the back of his head tugging at Blaine’s sentiment. Why did Kurt say such things? Did he try to make his new interest jealous? Why?

Escaping an increasingly uncomfortable situation between his parents, Blaine found life conspiring against him. Out of frustration, the cardboard cup holding his mocha hit the tabletop caused Blaine to sharply breathe in. Streams of light flashed through the mists driving the gloom away followed by shadows moving to his right and left on the outside of the window. Recognizing the shapes, hazel eyes scanned the Lima Bean and he realized there would be no avoiding them. Of all the luck. 

“―not like it makes a difference,” a familiar female tone tickled the ears from the door he had his back to. A chill gust of wind rolled passed him making him shiver. 

“He needs to get over himself,” Burt commented as he shoved the door closed behind him. “It’s cold out there and . . . Blaine?”

Carole turned to her right to find the charming teen swiveled in his chair to stand. Surprised, her eyes went to her husband who pushed passed her to give the Blaine a warm hug. The treatments had robbed him of all his hair, and now his eyebrows slowly grew back. The colour returned to his cheeks and he looked more alive. The two grew closer over the weeks as Blaine took shifts taking care of Burt during the worst of his treatment.

Great! Blaine did not need this right now. Could not say no? No. They might understand, but then he did not want to be impolite. The Kurt’s parents treated him well after he met their son and offered a hand to him and his family in the interim. He liked them, truly liked them, but, now, he found himself wishing for the warmth of California. 

Carole looked uncertain as her eyes went to her husband and her brows pushed together. 

Rolling his eyes, Burt gave his wife a stern look and said, “Yeah, he does.”

“Burt?” Carole quietly chastised as she shifted her shopping bags to one hand. 

“You should have left those in the car,” Burt observed.

Carole rolled her eyes and huffed. “It’s four blocks away.”

Hell, he stood there in the middle of a domestic. He already felt three feet tall, so now, he might be able to stand under the table without bending over. Like the rest of the day, fate had other things in mind. 

“Blaine, you don’t mind if we join you, do you?” Burt suddenly announced without as much as a bat of the eye.

Caught off guard, Blaine sputtered on his breath. Now? Inwardly sighing, he conceded, “Yeah, please.”

“Thank you,” Burt said to Blaine, as he hauled another chair over to the table. Glancing at his wife, he added, as if their discussion went on unabated, “I don’t like this Adam.”

“Not here, Burt,” Carole shot a quick look at Blaine. 

One foot tall and where could Blaine find the nearest mouse hole.

“Uh . . . yeah.” Burt frowned. His eyes went to Blaine and he winked. “Coffee Carole and a refresher for you, Blaine?”

Slack jawed, Carole stood there with flushed red cheeks and angry eyes. Carole swatted her husband on the arm while giving Blaine an apologetic look. 

“Well, I don’t. He’s a bit of a snot.” Burt defended himself and then trotted off to the coffee bar.

Carole shook her head and called after him. ‘Honestly, Burt? You met him only once.” 

“That’s all it took.” Burt shot back.

Gazing at Blaine, Carole shrugged. “Sorry Blaine, my husband is being a bit pigheaded. You didn’t need to know that.”

Yes, he did, well, at least part of Blaine needed to hear it. The rest of him started to pool around his feet like melting snow. While he might privately agree with Burt, he had no business getting involved in internal Hummel politics. If Kurt walked through the door everything would be perfect—not!

Her shoulders slumping, Carole looked to Blaine and said, “He’s in a bit of a mood.”

“I gather that.” Blaine held the chair out for Carole who looked at tentatively before sitting. Quickly he glanced toward the attendant behind the bar who turned his attention to Burt from her previous customer.

“Burt was in a mood when I picked him up at the airport.” Carole shifted her three plastic bags between the chair and the wall. Slipping her coat off it hung down onto the back of the chair. “I sorry you had to hear that Blaine. We could go, but I don’t think Burt would like that. I’ll see if I can get him to change the subject.”

“He’s had a rough few weeks, Carole,” Blaine apologetically politely stated as he slowly sat. Once again running came to mind, he could not do that to the Hummel’s. “Being blunt has never been a problem for Burt and considering everything, I can give him a little slack.”

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better,” Carole’s eyes went to the counter where Burt gathered up the drinks and something to eat. “Honestly, this is embarrassing.”

“Carole, I won’t pretend speaking about Kurt doesn’t upset me, but―” Blaine noted Burt turned back toward them with a cardboard tray in his hands. “Burt has been through a lot.”

“I know and with your help he pulled through,” Carole patted Blaine on the arm. “He’s still on the drugs and they have an effect. He stopped in yesterday to see Kurt to tell him something in person.”

Concern etched lines into Blaine’s face.

Carole touched Blaine’s hand and said, “It’s okay, Blaine. The news was good.”

Blaine nodded, even though his heart pounded in his chest. Gulping down a portion of his mocha, Blaine tried to settle his nerves. Kurt’s father looked far better than the last time he saw him. During the worst of it, he got short tempered, but in general he remained his normal calm self. One day Blaine walked in on Burt having a heated discussion with a colleague and the words surprised him. That day he learned not to get on Burt’s bad side. 

Two sets of eyes went Burt approached. Kurt’s father stopped in front of the table and said as if the discussion had not ended, “Just telling the truth. He’s a snot and too old for my son.”

Old? Kurt said nothing to Blaine about this man being old?

Carole gave the young man the table a sympathetic look and then glanced at her husband. “Dear, we don’t need to talk about this now.”

“When I met him, he tried too hard to impress me.” Burt growled as his butt hit the wooden chair just a little too hard. Staring right Blaine, he added, “He’s a suck up, unlike you.”

Cheeks flushing red, Blaine blinking and then swallowed. In a soft, almost embarrassed tone he said, “I don’t think showing up at the garage was meant to impress you.”

Smiling, Burt responded, “That showed a lot of courage, character and the fact you cared about my boy.”

Searching for the escape hatch in the floor, Blaine blushed. He noticed Carole’s remorseful gaze. 

“This Adam thought he could smoosh a congressman like the best of them. I hope he runs for office as a Republican, we’ll win the house.” Burt expression suddenly changed. “Kurt gets in late Saturday afternoon. You want to come to the airport with us. I know he would love to see you.”

“I think I should wait for his invitation.” Blaine said the right thing even though his heart screamed—fuck no!

Picking up his coffee, Burt leaned back and sucked in the top portion. Gazing at the teenager, he pushed the issue. “You know he would like it.” 

“Let him think.” Carole poked her husband in the ribs.

One of Burt’s newly grown eyebrows went up as if he sought an answer.

Taking a draft of his new and hot drink, Blaine felt wanted to sink into the foam. His eyes drifted to Carole who gently sucked on her lip and then she sorts of shrugged. Great? No! Then his eyes went to Burt, who looked so hopeful and Blaine’s heart fell into his intestines. Sighing, he relented. “Yes . . . I’d like to go.”

“You sure, dear,” Carole cautioned Blaine. Her eyes wearily went to the man holding her hand.

“Kurt and I may not be in a relationship anymore, but he’s still my best friend.” Blaine’s brows pressed together as if he suddenly had an idea. His eyes shifted right and left the he looked down to his left hand. A finger twitched from the pain shot down his arm.

“Blaine?” Carole softly asked.

“Just thinking of the look on his face.” Blaine softly replied with a hint of a tiny grin.

Burt grinned. “Just like Christmas.”

“Yeah, just like Christmas.” Blaine rubbed his finger across his brow. 

“Great,” Burt nodded. “We’ll be by about ten on Saturday to pick you up.”

“I’ll be ready.” Blaine smiled at Burt even though his heart froze. See Kurt again and—him. Gods!

“Are you going to tell Kurt?” Carole asked her husband.

“And ruin the surprise, never.” Burt had a twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re incorrigible . . .” Carole looked away to the door. “Isn’t that Sam?”

Turning around in his chair, Blaine felt utterly relieved. Sam! Dear, dependable Sam stood rubbing his hands together. Water soaked his jeans halfway up the shin and slushy water dripping on the floor around. Leaning back, Blaine reached as far as he could catch Sam’s sleeve. 

“Blaine, hi . . .” Sam blinked and the door to slam behind him. The smile spreading his pouty lips waned into concern. “Mr. and Mrs. Hummel, how nice to see you. You look good Mr. Hummel.”

“Burt and Carole will do and thank you,” Burt stood and lifted the coat from the back of Carole’s chair.

“You’re leaving?” Sam gave the adults a curious look. “I hope I am not interrupting.”

“No, no. I got what I wanted,” Burt winked to Blaine. 

Carole gave her husband a hard looked as she held out her arms. Her eyes moved as quickly to Blaine giving him a look which said, Burt would not hear the end of this.

Burt slipped her jacket up to her shoulders and said to the boys, “We’re having a small get together Saturday evening, Sam. Why don’t you come and bring some of your friends with you?”

Sam gave him teen with the gelled down hair a worried look. Blaine shrugged and then Sam glanced at Burt. “Okay, it’s a date. I’ll spread the word, party at the Hummel’s.”

“Excellent, tell them to drop by about seven.” Burt looked to Carole who angrily rolled her eyes before picking up her shopping bags.

Nodding, Sam politely responded, “Okay.”

Stepping away from the table, Burt took Carole’s right hand in his left. Taking a few steps, Burt looked back at the table. “See you Saturday, Blaine and you’ll be staying for dinner, won’t you?”

A feeling of being snared made Blaine’s skin tingle. He weakly smiled. “You got it, Burt.”

The congressmen grinned like a Cheshire Cat and the led his wife out into the falling snow. Blaine’s jaw dropped and then his head fell to his chest to find two hands pressing up against it. Rubbing his forehead, he felt numb. With a low growl, he suddenly leaned back and gazed up at the ceiling and release heavy breath. 

“Is that latte, fresh?” Sam stared at the untouched drinks. “And the cookies?”

Rolling his head until Sam came into view, Blaine nodded and then let his head fall toward his chest.

Sitting down, Sam eyed the icy topped cookies and leaned toward his friend with a deeply concerned looked. Waving his hand in front of Blaine to get his attention. “You’re like someone just died.”

“Yeah, me,” Blaine lids flashed like a light loosing hooked up to a dead battery. His chest felt tight and sweat rolled down his back along with a cold shiver. 

“Kurt?”

“Yup.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam dug into the bag and pulled out a sugar cookie. Breaking part off, he popped part into his mouth without saying a word. Brows pressing together, he chewed and then made a face. “The last time he was here you two hooked up.”

“Twice.”

“Twice?”

“Twice.” Blaine grinned from ear to ear. “Not including kissing in the backseat of the car.”

A hand slapped against Sam’s cheek and his eyes narrowed. “Blaine’s he’s seeing someone.”

“I know.” The curly haired teen glanced out the window and for a second, he saw snow frozen puke. A spike drove into his heart, forcing him to draw in a deep breath. 

“What are you going to do if he brings this person with him?” Sam looked uncomfortable.

Shuffling back into his chair, Blaine looked forlorn. “Cry.”

“Blaine?”

“His new . . . friend . . . isn’t coming.”

Sam bit off a chunk of cookie. “Do you know that for certain?”

“No.” Blaine drank a long draft of his cooling beverage.

“Did they―”

“No.”

“You’re reading too much into this.”

“Sam, I know he still loves me.”

“As friends.”

“No more.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt any more than you already have.”

Crossing his arms, Blaine pouted and sank down into his chair. With his usual naïve way, Sam hit it right on the head. “You’re all heart Sam.”

“You know I’ll always look out for you.”

“I know. You helped me through all this giving me a shoulder to sob on. Even saved me from going back to Dalton where I would have been shot up with steroids.”

“You would never have done that Blaine. You are one of the most ethical people I know. You recall your reaction to the body roll.”

Blaine snickered. “Yeah. I could have pulled the punching bag down, but I didn’t.”

“You’re too . . . nice . . . and perhaps still a bit stuck on me.” Sam impishly smiled.

Blushing with a sweet grin, Blaine giggled. “You have to admit, those lips of yours?”

Sam’s eyebrows went up as he turned bright red. Clearing his throat, he commented, “I would just have been thrown away like so much dishwater.”

“Sam?”

“Blaine, I enjoyed being your guilty pleasure . . . well, not the way you wanted me too.”

A huge smile erupted on Blaine’s face as he blushed. “I never―”

“Yes, you did.” Sam winked at his friend. “I still think that wasn’t a roll of breath mints.”

Shyly looking away, Blaine laughed. 

Sam went on. “It flattered me that you had such . . . a large . . . regard for me.”

“Sam?” Blaine almost choked on his coffee.

Gazing at the other half of the cookie, Sam picked up the latte and took a sip. Making a face he said, “Need more sugar. Anyway, you have to be prepared if Kurt no longer feels the same way.”

Head slumping, Blaine did not look so happy. “Can you blame me for wanting to get him back?”

“But what if he brings―”

“He’s not going to. I just know it.”

“Blaine, be real.”

Giving his friends a stern look, Blaine pointed a finger at him, “If he brings his . . . friend, you may find out if I really had mints in my pocket. If he is alone, will you help me get him back.”

Shaking his head, Sam blew out a puff of air. “Blaine?”

Biting his upper lip, a tear glistened in Blaine’s eyes. “Sam, I have to try. Being part sucks.”

“It might―”

“He won’t be here, Sam.”

Sam shook his head and then grinned from ear to ear. “What do you have planned?” 

Blaine shrugged.

“Blaine, you’re doing it all over again.” Sam placed a hand on Blaine’s arm squeezing it. “Shagging on Valentines doesn’t make it all come all sunshine and rainbows.”

“I don’t want to get hurt either, but it will kill me if I don’t try.” Drawing in a deep breath did not stop his heart from pounding in his chest. The ghost of cold winter’s night tinged the lining of his thoughts causing Blaine to quiver.

“I guess I should get ready?” Sam rolled his eyes.

Worried, Blaine asked, “Why?”

“Wet shoulders.” Sam mischievously smirked. 

Blaine laughed and then his head crashed onto the table with a thud barely missing the drinks. Releasing a low groan, his hands splayed out to either side on the flat surface. In a low, hard voice he growled, “Fuck!


	22. It's Tool Late New

The headache ebbed away after a rough night’s sleep, though it did not offer much relief. Conflicting emotions crushed his heart and he could not get the morass of images to leave his head. With the sun blasting through a crack in the curtains testifying to a nice day, Blaine did not care. Huddled under his sheets, his stomach turned, and he endured the worst gas. The alarm woke up with a start followed by a sharp unseemly word―shit! Groaning, he remembered Burt and Carole would be around in a couple of hours. He told his mother about it, and, while she sympathized, she left it all up to him. She offered to come with him, but in the end, Blaine realized he could not avoid this. He would have to face Kurt whether he brought his new friend or not.

Last night Sam and Tina offered him an out suggesting Blaine get drunk and that a hangover would keep him in bed. That became a no-go and now Blaine faced the realization Kurt may have moved on. Gripping his pillow, he hated the idea he will be standing there watching a prideful Kurt step through the door on the arm of another man. He tasted blood from his teeth pressing into his lips, and none of the pain. The stinging in his heart proved overpowering as he stared at the golden bracelet hanging on the side of a photo. Tears filled his eyes as the clock ticked on toward the ruin of his life.

A knock on the door forced him to dab his eyes on his duvet. When he looked up, his mother stood there with an apprehensive look on her face. Silently padding across the room, she sat on the edge of the bed, taking her son in her arms. “Let out it, Blaine.”

Sniffling, Blaine leaned into his mother and moaned, “What if he’s not alone?”

“Then you will be happy for him,” Pam softly replied as she rocked her son back and forth.

“Mom―”

“Blaine, hurt and lose is part of life. You can’t avoid it. If Kurt has moved on, then you have to move on yourself. Cooper has offered to take you in for a little while. School will be over soon, and you can go live with him for a while. Maybe you will meet―”

“I don’t want to meet someone else.”

Pam’s compassionate eyes stared into her son’s sorrowful orbs. “You will not learn your first love will always be your first love, but you will find you can go on.”

Placing his hands on his chest, Blaine sighed. “I don’t know if I can. I know he is my soul mate and I just can’t―”

Stroking her son’s arm, Pam whispered, “We all can. I have?”

“Mom?” Blaine pulled back.

“Your father wasn’t my first love.” Pam stroked her son’s back. “A boy named Matthew was. He broke my heart when he joined the army at eighteen. I felt my world had ended and then I was at a party one night and I saw your father.”

“But, mom, look at―”

“Blaine, what is happening now has nothing to do with what I felt back then.”

“You still love dad?”

“Very much, but love can be stretched and bent. Sometimes it snaps and then comes back at you. Things happen along the way which will make you doubt; however, you must remember it takes two to make it work and two to make it crumble. I don’t hate your father, Blaine, I just do not understand where his head is these days.”

A son looked at his mother with hopeful eyes. “Do you think it can be fixed?”

“I don’t know Blaine.” Pam honestly and sadly answered. “I just don’t know.”  
Hours of anxieties proved to be the machinations of an overactive heart and mind when Kurt walked into the baggage area alone. His eyes show brightly when he saw his father standing there with his arms wide open. Running forward with a small satchel bumping against his thigh, he threw himself into his father’s arms with a huge smile. His expression hardened when he spotted Blaine standing behind Carole next to a pillar.

Blaine did not know want to think at first when Kurt’s brows pulled down to his eyes and his smile flattened. No! Kurt did not like him being here or maybe his friend stood amongst the crowds watching. Hazel eyes scanned the men and women hugging and greeting each other while waiting for the luggage to show up. A few people stood apart, some of them men. Three gazed in their direction, but one of them seemed far too old, one might be Kurt’s age and, then―Blaine’s head drooped. Off to the side of the luggage carousel lingered a tall, well-built man in his mid to late twenties holding a backpack and wearing something Kurt might wear. In an instant, Blaine’s heart sank because this handsome fellow stared at a father and son with an impish smirk on his face.

Hell! Fuck! Gods no! Blaine felt his heart crash to the heels of his feet. Suddenly light-headed he braced himself against the pillar and stepped back so he could not watch. Fate had it, he backed into someone’s luggage and promptly jumped forward, so he could see everything. His lungs felt like they would explode with the magnitude of the air they threw in. That man, Kurt’s man, looked his way and Blaine’s chin fell toward the floor.

Closing his eyes, he heard Kurt’s beautiful voice saying words of welcome to his father as they hugged. The darkness behind his eyelids swirled and Blaine found himself staring up at a broad, round face staring at him with caring eyes. Holding hands with the large, chunky fellow, Blaine pulled on the door handle to the music store. The other person said something to him and in the place his mind found itself, Blaine fondly smiled back. In the reality of the airport, his mind screamed—Karofsky?

Barely a few feet into the dreamlike apparition of the store, Blaine spotted someone, and he felt his heart pull in—Kurt. The incredibly handsome man flipped through sheet music and, as if someone controlled him, blue eyes found hazel. Thunder and lightning, swooning and deep anger bubbled up all at once over scored by polite platitudes scattered his thoughts. Those eyes ate into Blaine ripping at his soul leaving the curly headed boy feeling naked. Something sharp dug into his chest and then hazel and blue parted. The vision bubbled followed by Kurt’s angelic voice rising in song.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGTwy_yxcLo)

_Stayed in bed all morning just to pass the time_

_There's something wrong here, there can be no denying_   
_One of us is changing_   
_Or maybe we just stopped trying_

Bellowing haze drifted between the racks of music conjuring up inconsistent vestiges. The stunning sound resonating from Kurt’s throat faded away to nothing forcing Blaine to pick up the notes.

_And it's too late, baby, now it's too late_   
_Though we really did try to make it_

A light in the vapours, called out as it cycled back, and Kurt’s sweet tones harmonize with Blaine’s mournful thoughts.

_Something inside has died_   
_And I can't hide and I just can't fake it_

A shadow passed over Blaine as the image shifted ever so slightly as the wide played with coloured fog. David drove Kurt’s words away like a signal light in the mist, leaving Blaine alone.

_Oh, no, no_

Brightness shown in the gloom and the heaven-sent sound of Kurt’s beatific voice echoed in the distance like a distant horn.

_No, no_

The beam circled back, bringing Kurt’s voice back before vanishing again. The cycle continued with each taking up the words in turn. Now and then they would join as if two ships drew near in the fog and then they drifted away again.

(Blaine (with Kurt)):  
_Oh, no, (no, no)_

(Blaine and Kurt):  
_No no no no_

(Blaine):  
_It used to be so easy living here with you (Kurt: Here with you)_  
 _You were light and breezy and I knew just what to do_

(Kurt):  
_Now you look so unhappy_

(Blaine):  
_And I feel like a fool (Kurt: I feel like a fool)_

(Blaine and Kurt):  
_And it's too late, baby, now it's too late_  
 _Though we really did try to make it_  
 _Something inside has died_  
 _And I can't hide and I just can't fake it_  
 _Oh, no, no_

_Do, do, do, do, do, do, do_   
_Na, na, na, na, na, na_

(Blaine):  
_Yeah, yeah, yeah_

(Blaine and Kurt):  
_Oh whooo oh_

(Kurt):  
_There'll be good times again for me and you_

(Blaine)  
_But we just can't stay together, don't you feel it, too_

(Blaine and Kurt)  
_Still I'm glad for what we had and how I once loved you_  
 _Once loved you_

_But it's too late, baby, now it's too late_   
_Though we really did try to make it_   
_Something inside has died and I can't hide_   
_And I just can't fake it_   
_Oh, no, no, no, no, no_

_Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na_   
_Oh, it's too late, baby_   
_It's too late, now darling_   
_It's too late_

The words faded with the horrific hallucination leaving logic grappling with a vividly real imaged. Stunned, an overly loud announcement jerking him from his miserable thoughts forcing him to take a short step to steady himself. Blinking at the brightness he felt as if minutes had flown away, but, in fact, the unsettling vision lasted a single, agonizingly painful breath. Groping for air, Blaine leaned against the pillar allowing his head to fall against with a sharp thud. David? David crappy Karofsky?

Feeling faint he thanked the pillar beside him because he would have fallen over. He should have listened to Sam and his mother. All the longing and pain he endured seemed minute compared to the torments he felt at this moment. Snowflakes danced in his head along with stale fumes and then he saw a face. Bloody hell, David Karofsky stared at him with large doe eyes.

“You’re a bloody fool, Blaine Anderson,” he muttered to himself as turned so no one would see him wipe the tears from his eyes. “It's too late.”

Lifting his head, he let it thud against the rounded pillar a couple of times only to hear someone behind him mutter something behind him. Erratically shaking his head, he noticed an elderly lady standing close by giving him a strange look. At the same time, in the corner of his eye, he saw that man patiently waiting as looking for some sort of signal. His chest rising with each breath, Blaine wanted to run and then Kurt went to embrace Carole. Their eyes met for the briefest second and Blaine could not be sure what he saw.

Drawing on all his talents, he stood there trying not to look too upset. Kurt looked good, so very good and Blaine found it hard to keep his feelings in check. Water welled up in his eyes as he noticed the tall man step forward with a large smile on his face. Suddenly Kurt looked back over his shoulder and Blaine noted the look in the tall man’s eyes. Oh, god! Here we go, they are going to kiss. Blaine’s knees felt wobbled and his stomach turned.

Sweat rolled in slow motion down his back and for a moment Blaine wish he had died. Then, from out of left saw a young, blond woman suddenly burst out of the crowd throwing herself at his tall man. Scooping her up in his arms, he twirled her about kissing her with great passion. His chin dropped, and Blaine barely noticed a shadow pass in front of him and for a split second he thought of Karofsky. Blinking, his head craned back and then he saw an ocean of blue staring at him. Stunned, he did not know what to do until two arms wrapped about him. Oh, god, Kurt hugged him! Kurt really hugged him! For a confusing second Blaine sort of hung there and then he closed her eyes, letting his arms squeeze the person holding him. Inhaling, Kurt’s familiar scent swarmed his lungs and then he leaned into the man holding him.

Many emotional days later, Blaine enjoyed the fruits of his feverishly quick labours when Kurt said yes. With tears in his eyes—lovely, fucking yes! The build up to his plan left Blaine as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Asking Kurt to stay for the competition took guts and then picnic in the courtyard scared the daylights out of him. Calling on all his acting skills and with help from his friends to pull him through, he now stood on the stairs in Dalton slipping a ring on Kurt’s trembling finger.

 

With red hearts dropping from above, they admired the ring on Kurt’s splayed fingers, everyone cheered. Beaming, Blaine could not be happier because getting Burt on side turned into the hardest part of all. When they spoke backstage, Kurt’s father left Blaine with a sour taste in his mouth. Then the former Warbler went back to ask for further help, and his shirt stuck to his back from all the sweating. Pleading his case like a good lawyer, his future father-in-law wanted to know if he could knock the young man off course. Angry at first, in the end, Burt consented, and then told Blaine he would have agreed right from the start.

The grand spectacle unfolded leaving Kurt obviously breathless. Led by Rachel through a menagerie of competing choirs, Blaine rushed off to an important place. One of the side halls held a banquet and Blaine managed to drag his lover away. Desirous of spending a few moments with Kurt and only Kurt, he used his knowledge of Dalton against the guests. Running through the same halls they had before they passed through the senior commons and out into the garden. Hugging and kissing, Kurt bounced on his toes, but then the luster faded. Reality set in as a sharp pain tugged at Blaine’s chest, leaving Blaine thinking the worst.

“Do you remember this bench?” Blaine asked as he nervously maneuvered around the flower beds. Flesh pressed against flesh, making it impossible for Blaine to feel the ring he had placed on a finger. It felt right, even though Kurt now wavered.

“I loved this place. It became . . . our bench,” Kurt replied with some hesitance as his cute face hardened. Suddenly he glanced away and drew in a deep breath.

Water running down his back and with his skin tingling, Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt’s hand. Trying to keep it under control he stumbled on two easy words, “You . . . alright?”

With a sigh Kurt bumped shoulders with the adorable man beside him. “I knew you were going to propose.”

Surprise flashed on Blaine’s face even though he knew Kurt would have figured it out. At the same time, his heart thumped against his ribs as if it tried to break free. Did Kurt think of this Adam fellow? Was he about to get dumbed?

Rubbing Blaine’s hand Kurt studied Blaine’s face. In a low voice he said, “The dinner.”

“Yeah, I . . . guess.” Blaine bungled his words. “That . . . was . . . a big clue.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed. It was sweet.”

“I’ve . . . always been a bit of a mushy sap.”

“I knew you would never give up.”

“You have reservations?”

“No . . . well maybe.”

“You do know that I love you.” Blaine swallowed hard. “I have always loved you, Kurt.”

Gazing into Blaine amber brown eyes Kurt smiled. Rubbing the finger with the ring on it against Blaine’s skin, he said, “I never really stopped loving you.”

Hesitation rose in Blaine’s throat. “But―”

Kurt turned to look at the man he said yes to. “I get it now . . . fooling around.”

“Kurt, no,” Blaine turned sideways to gaze at his fiancée. Sitting on the bench, he pulled Kurt down with him.

Settling in beside Blaine, Kurt took two hands in his and sighed again. Biting his lower lip, he looked to the grass and then back. “I blew you off, Blaine. I didn’t answer your calls and made the ones we did have unimportant. While we were parted, I thought of that and many other things.”

“Your bow in . . . New York?”

“Ex-bow in New York.”

“Kurt . . . did you say yes, because you really want to marry me or because I used all that hype to . . . trap you?”

Kurt pulled his hands away and his words came out at a high pitch. “Trap me!”

Shit! Blaine watched Kurt’s eyes go down to the ring he twisted around his finger. His heart falling to his stomach, he nervously stated, “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Yes, you did, Mr. Blaine Anderson.” Kurt’s voice had a sharp edge to it.

Mr? Oh god! A spike shot through Blaine’s heard sending him into a spiraling loop. In his mind saw the ring tumbling to the grass and Kurt running away. Drawing in a shaky breath, he muttered, “But, I never―”

“You’re never been good at lying. Of course, you set this up to trap me.” Regret etched lines into Kurt’s forehead the moment he uttered the last two words. Squeezing the hands, he held, Kurt stared into Blaine’s eyes and innocently smiled.

The colour ran from Blaine face as his chin dropped. Tears welled up in his eyes as he said in a shaky voice, “Kurt, if you feel that way, I can’t hold you to any promise. If you . . . well . . . I understand.”

Regarding Blaine for a short while, Kurt’s face remained unchanged. Increasing his grip on Blaine’s hands, he leaned in so his forehead’s touched. In a soft voice, Kurt whispered, “Your sweet, Blaine. Caring and at times a little bit goofy but―”

Blaine looked like a lost puppy as a tear rolled down his cheek. “But?”

“Oh here,” Kurt shuffled closer and wrapped his arms about Blaine drawing him into a soft, caring embrace. “I admit I was frightened to death. This is a big step and we’re so young.”

With his face pressed into Kurt’s shoulders Blaine timidly returned the sentiment. He had made a fool of himself? What would his friends, family do when they learned Kurt rejected him? Gods, he did not know how to bear it.

Kurt must have felt the young man shaking and he pulled Blaine hand up to his lips gently kissing them, “Yes, I adore you Blaine Anderson.”

Blaine’s head moved ever so slightly as he drew in a sharp inhale.

“I truly and death do us part, love you?” Caressing Blaine’s right hand with his left, Kurt hesitated. “I’ve felt this way since you first took my hand.”

Blaine shifted as he looked to the door leading to a hall and finally the stairs. He drew in a long and serious breath. His chest grew tight and he drew in a deep breath. A little while ago, he had been on a huge high and now, he did not know anymore. Kurt spoke the words, but―hell!

Pulling his arm away, Kurt took Blaine’s face in both his hands. Looking deeply into those amazing honey-brown eyes, he smiled. “The fellow in New York, while nice, does . . . did not move me in the ways you do Mr. Blaine Anderson. I don’t think he would have fought as hard as you did to win me back. He never made me feel as complete as you do. I had to try . . . experiment . . . to see what I would loose . . . you.”

Moving his head, Blaine drew in a sharp breath and then said in a highly emotional voice, “Kurt, I love you. I really do.”

Holding back tears, Kurt quietly said, “Blaine you have always made me feel so safe and wanted even when we were separated. I told my dad that a couple of hours ago.”

Tears glistening in his eyes, Blaine lifted his head. “What did Burt say?”

Salty water ran down Kurt’s cheek. “He said I could say yes or no. I asked if I could say maybe.”

Blaine chuckled―how Kurt.

Grinning, Kurt went on, “Then he told me to hear you what you had to say. I listened and made up my own mind. Yes, I felt trapped and then I saw you standing there with wonder and eagerness in your heavenly eyes. Then you talked about souls and my heart exploded. For a split second, I felt as if I stood somewhere else with you there at my side looking into forever. At that moment I could see your soul and the openness of your amazing heart.”

Laying his head on Kurt’s shoulder, Blaine quivered as another sob shook his body. When he spoke, his voice sounded fragile. “I was so afraid you . . . you . . . would―”

“And you should have been.”

“Kurt, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Cuddling up, Kurt whispered, “Blaine, I know that now and so much more. You are special to me and I was too blinded to see it. I pushed you into another man’s arms.”

“I was weak. I should have known before―” Blaine blubbered. “After I . . . well . . . I knew I had made the biggest mistake of my life.”

Soothing Blaine by rubbing his back, Kurt proudly stated, “But you have me now and will for many years to come.”

“Do I?” Blaine looked up with tears in his eyes and his heart in his throat.

Taking that sorrowful face in his hands, Kurt pressed his lips into Blaine’s. Vast amounts of tension evaporated from both their bodies, leaving blissful happiness.


	23. Teenage Dream

“Good morning,” Kurt yawned as his legs and back stiffened as he stretched. Reaching back, a hand fell on the shoulder of the young man snuggled up to him. Fingers lightly played with tangles of curly hair.

Grinning, Blaine rolled his head to enjoy the sensation more. “Good morning, Mr. Hummel.”

“Soon to be Mr. Hummel-Anderson.” Kurt’s eyes fluttered as he pushed his buttock and back against the man behind him.

The right side of Blaine’s face playfully brightened into a grin. “Or Mr. Anderson-Hummel?”

The mattress moved, and the warm sheets filled the narrow space between them as Kurt lazily turned over. Soft cocks pressing together as blue eyes met with hazel as a stupid grin tugged at relaxed facial muscles. Stifling another sleepy yawn Kurt’s brow pulled together. Lifting his head without moving his body he studied Blaine.

Staring into the heavenly blue orbs, Blaine loved the sight. They spoke volume without words. This morning, though, Blaine had trouble preserving the delicate connection between the world about him and the tenderness of his heart.

Eyes narrowing, Kurt asked in an almost silent tone, “What’a thinking?”

“About us?” Blaine’s hand fell flat on a hairless chest. Curly hair sprawled out over the pillow as he settled in to gaze at the young man next to him. A smiled spread his lips as his body shifted, causing a slight discomfort in his posterior. Kurt certainly knew how to please.

Lifting his head and shifting his body, Kurt regarded Blaine. “You’re still worried?”

“Am I?”

“I can hear it in your breathing.”

“You know me that well?”

“And more.”

“But―”

“No buts. Mr. Anderson. We’re not going there today or tomorrow. What was, was and what is . . . I love it.”

Gazing into those heavenly blue eyes, the beauty of the man next him stilled Blaine’s heart bringing calm. NYADA had been good for Kurt. Dance classes have changed his body in a good way while Blaine still felt a little pudgy. New confidence revealed itself in Kurt’s tone and walk. Doubt pressed in on Blaine demanding he catch up. The achievement made him feel proud as the little things, such as graduating high school, seemed trifle.

“Blaine, I know that look?” Kurt gently stated. A hand came to rest on Blaine’s bringing their fingers together.

Dark, elongated eyebrows pushed together, and Blaine rolled his eyes ever so slightly.

Grinning, Kurt pushed into Blaine laying a hand on his chest sprouting a few short stubs of hair. His fingers splayed out and closed again several times. “Please, tell me what you’re thinking?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m―” Blaine stumbled on his words. “I . . . well . . . I most of . . . damn it!”

Two fingers fell upon Blaine’s lips and then Kurt leaned forward, kissing his rediscovered love on the forehead. An old man recalled the moment and the helplessness he endured. With the end so close, he still did not understand why he felt such doubt. Kurt accepted him back, but the road ahead would not be as smooth as his younger self may have liked. Now, as he stared at the man, he had loved almost eighty years, old Blaine let it all go. Kurt left first, but it did not bother an old man because, somehow, he knew they would meet again.

A short, but sharp pain shot down his left arm, causing the fingers to go numb. An old man winced and allowed a tear to roll down his cheek. Drawing in a short but quick breath, he could not stop himself from snickering. He had hoped the end of his life would have been like so many climaxes they had shared. Well, in this case, going together. Coming had never been an issue.

Chuckling turned into coughing as an old man grinned. Modern science did wonders with genetic therapies cured many things and created new issues. Would it help him now? The tingling in his arms told him it would not be long, and oddly, he did not feel rushed. Dramatic interpretations of death had everyone wailed, when a loved one died. What did time wait for?

Oddly the question did not nag at him as much as he would have expected. Ever since he realized Kurt would not wake from his nap, his emotions rolled along on strangely comfortable pace. Yes, it jumped about with the tidal wave in his chest, but what did time what for? The words hung there for a long time as if the door between this life and the next squeaked on the wind without fully opening. Some say you relive your life at the moment of death, and had Kurt experienced something like this? An old man could not deny he enjoyed this even if it scared him. Seeing those two star struck lovers reinforced the truth of unspoken regrets and knowing the path, they would take together, old Blaine laughed at his younger self. Slowly his snickering turned into hushed words which rose in volume.

“Listen Blaine, we’ve had our ups and downs. Yes . . . we broke up.” Kurt sighed as he rubbed his hand over Blaine’s chest where stubble pressed into the skin. “Believe me when I tell you, you convinced me where my heart really lies. I dreamed of you. I even thought I saw you on the street one day and ran to catch up. You turned out to be a bit older.”

The right side of Blaine’s face curled up into a lovely smirk. “Did I look good?”

“Let’s just say, you will look much better.”

Laughing, Blaine rolled his eyes and scrunched his face up. “So, I’m going to be a troll when I get older.”

One eye opened wider than the other, Kurt grinned. “We’ll never live under a bridge together.”

Grunting and making monster noises, Blaine rocked his body back and forth.

Kurt winked. “Are you are trying to turn me on Mr. Blaine Anderson?”

“Do I need to try?” Blaine purred.

“Nah.” Kurt smiled, and his lips pressed against the top of an ear. “You can’t believe how much I have missed you. I tried to move on but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw those beautiful amber-brown looking back at me.”

The chin crinkled up as Blaine blushed. An ocean of blue surrounded by white invaded his thoughts telling him Kurt had never really left him.

“Rachel, Santana . . . and yes, Adam, and I were watching Moulin Rougé one night and when it came to the song ‘Come What May’, Adam was wrapped around―” Kurt’s expression changed when he noted the narrowing of Blaine’s eyes. Raking two fingers along Blaine’s chest and smiled. “You know the part.”

“Yeah.” Blaine sounded weak.

“I heard you singing Blaine. I saw you on a rooftop in the snow looking so handsome in a tuxedo. I joined you and . . . we sang together.” Tapping a nipple, Kurt pressed his forehead against his lover’s. “I cried.”

Blaine’s heart stopped. Staring into Kurt’s eyes, he remembered a similar vision in which he saw two men. They fondly gazed at each other within the dim of flickering firelight. Thin fingers ruffled dark curly hair and then he lifted his right hand and a left slid into it. Wetness balled up in the corner of his eye and then Blaine began to sing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2xN1oUiGoQ)

_Never knew, I could feel like this_   
_I've never seen the sky before_   
_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Seasons may change_   
_Winter to spring_   
_But I love you_   
_Until the end of time_

_Come what may_   
_Come what may_   
_I will love you_   
_Until my dying day_

Angelic eyes gazed at hazel with a love so powerful it seemed to stretch into time. Raising his voice in counterpoint, Kurt dabbed the wetness from beneath Blaine’s eyes.

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place_   
_Suddenly moves with such a perfect grace_   
_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste_   
_It all revolves around you_

_And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide_   
_Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side_   
_Storm clouds may gather_   
_And stars may collide_

_But I love you_

_I love you_

_Until the end of time_   
_Until the end of time_

_Come what may_   
_Come what may_

_I will love you_   
_I will love you_

“Oh my god, Blaine.” Tears filled Kurt’s eyes and then he threw himself at his lover. Crawling up on him, he pressed their lips together with such passion the heart stopped. When he tenderly pulled away, Kurt laid a hand flat against Blaine’s unshaven face.

Looking up, Blaine the right side of Blaine’s face lifted into the lovely, smirk guaranteed to make Kurt’s chest flutter. “Never had I dreamed I would have met such a sweet man. Never had I believed in fate. Wishes come true in the most amazing way. Truth recognized, as if seen in some vision of times long past. Your hand in my that day felt beyond perfect.”

“Oh, Blaine?” Kurt whispered and then kissed Blaine again. He pulled back suddenly giving his love a puzzled look. “You sang so beautifully, but now―”

“It’s nothing Kurt.” Blaine pressed his head into Kurt’s shoulder next to the neck. Without realizing it, he let out a sigh.

Snuggling closer, Kurt stroked Blaine’s tangles. “I love you, Blaine.”

“I love you too.” There had been no hesitation in Blaine’s response he felt it with all his heart, but a black ghoul gnawed on his darkest thoughts. Chest muscles tightened and for a second, he felt trapped inside a confined space filled with noxious fumes. The body shuddered.

“Blaine?” Kurt shifted increasing the space between them. “What?”

Blaine’s head now rested on a bicep. “All’s good, Kurt. Believe me, all is good.”

Eyebrows going up, Kurt took Blaine’s right hand in his left drawing him closer. “You’re worried about what will happen when I returned to New York.”

“Yeah.” Blaine sounded weak as heavy air filled his chest.

Cradling his lover in his arms, Kurt held him as if his life depended on it. “Oh, my love, don’t be afraid. I won’t fluff you off for a piece of gossip.”

“I know.” Blaine draped an arm over Kurt making him feel safe.

“The past few months have taught me a lot about myself. I don’t like all of what If found.” Kurt set his lips against Kurt’s forehead. “You tried so hard to tell me you were sorry. It’s my time to tell you I’m sorry.”

Sitting up Blaine the sheet fell away, exposing the hair above his crotch. Deep emotion welled up and he threw his arms about the man he loved. The heart screamed at him to reveal a terrible truth, but fear overshadowed everything. The mind faltered for a second and the only words he could think have spilled from his lips. “Kurt you don’t need to do that.”

“Blaine you will always have a kind and compassionate heart.” Kurt stroke Blaine’s neck. “I’m far from perfect.”

Fluttering eyes stared at Kurt. The heart thumped with relief, but the mind still did not grasp the situation. Blaine muttered, “You?”

“Me.” Kurt’s voice sounds so silent but full.

A thought grounded Blaine and he shyly smiled. “You’re prefect to me.”

“Ah-h-h-h-h.”

“You’re my perfect imperfection.”

“Do you remember the ring you gave me?”

“I could never forget.”

“I was going to toss it, but I couldn’t. Adam asked me about it, and I said it was a gift from a high school friend.”

“Oh?”

“A very special high school friend who gave me the strength not to be afraid.”

“Ah?”

“Yes, ah. You know I kept the things you gave me under my bed. When I was so mad at you, I could scream, I still could not throw them out. Rachel said it was because I still loved you.”

“And did you?”

“Honestly, at that time, I did not know. The ring sat on my nightstand beside the lamp. I would gaze at it and remember all the fun we had together. It broke my heart, but it also gave me strength.”

“I saw it there at Christmas.”

“I guess, in all the rush of the surprise I forgot it.”

“You wanted to hide it?”

“No, never. That stupid little ring meant more to me than you could imagine Mr. Blaine Anderson.” Kurt grinned from ear to ear. Holding up his hand the sparse light danced on metal wrapping his finger. “It was a promise I desperately wanted to keep.”

Eyes smiling at Kurt, Blaine gently kissed his love on the forehead. Snuggling up closer he wrapped his legs about his former ex-boyfriend, so their bodies felt as if it had become one. Burying his head into Kurt’s shoulder, he tried not to shed a tear. Sniffling, he felt Kurt’s arms surround him in an embrace he had missed all those months. Kurt’s hard-edge served them both, but Blaine’s softness made them a powerful combination.

Drawing in a shaky, breath, Blaine whispered, “I missed you so much. I almost went back to Dalton.”

Blue eyes narrowing, Kurt looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Dalton had no recent memories of you.” Blaine glanced down at the sheets. “I could have sworn the halls of McKinley had your smell.”

“And well it should,” Kurt cut in. “I wore enough cologne . . . good cologne at that . . . to soak the ceiling tiles for years to come.”

Laughing, Blaine squeezed his love tighter. “You’re a one-of a kind Kurt Hummel.”

“Definitely,” Kurt kissed Blaine on the brow.

Placing his lips against the side of Kurt’s face Blaine returned the kiss. “After we broke up, I could see us laughing here and walking there. It was really depressing.”

Kurt pouted.

Drawing in a deep breath, Blaine looked into those eyes, feeling his heart flutter. “I was in a terrible space and ended up back at Dalton. I sat under the tree where I finally made up my mind to transfer to McKinley. Part of me wished David and Trent were there, but no, I found someone new in charge of the Warblers.”

“I saw the newscast.”

“It made the national news?”

“I watched the local stuff. Rachel and I might have been in New York, but we still paid attention to what the New Directions did. I watched your national’s performance. You were great by the way.”

“They were better.”

“Don’t cut yourself short, Blaine Anderson. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”

“Short jokes? Really?”

Kurt just leaned in with a smile and kissed Blaine. “Believe it or not, I miss Lima. It’s so much quieter than New York, but don’t get me wrong I won’t move back . . . well not permanently.”

“Kurt, I can’t guarantee what the future will bring.” Blaine looked sad. “But I’ve always known I need you in my life.”

Wildly smiling, Kurt took Blaine’s hand hauling it down to his crotch and seductively whispered, “Make me sing.”

Throwing his face into Kurt’s, Blaine rolled up on top of the lovely man. Tongues lashed, and hand explored a body the man he worshipped. Sliding across Kurt, Blaine suddenly regretted not shaving his torso as he did every morning. Kurt might like the hair, but Blaine had other opinions. Rolling this way and that, Kurt sucked on thick, pink lips. Blaine loved it. In exchange, he found Kurt’s narrow lips an erotic adventure and their noses bumped together. Longing and need took them, causing the blood to rush to the thickening tubes stretched along the stomachs. Forcing their own directions, two snakes met in the tight spaces between writhing bodies.

Suddenly Blaine pulled back and two cocks sprang straight up to their belly buttons. Allowing his tongue to lick those sweet lips, Blaine prepared Kurt for the exploration to come. The curly haired teen wanted to make Kurt plead. The spot behind the ear at the base of the neck or nipping at the chin, he dared Kurt to lose all self-control. Aggressive Kurt turned Blaine over. Not afraid to admit that he liked to receive more than give, Blaine gave Kurt all the signals he wanted to receive.

Deep down Blaine needed this. Last night had been fun, but this morning he marked Kurt as that special someone who would always be in his life. No part of his lover’s fine body went untouched as his tongue lashed over toes and fingers. The tender spots behind joints and the muskiness of armpits send shivers through the body. The moist trail he left over alabaster skin allowed an affectionate man to taste Kurt in such a complete and complex manner. Blaine savoured the opportunity as Kurt’s delicious moans heightened the experience. Long, slender fingers raked down Blaine’s back creating an animalistic need. One hand slid away and then fingers gripped Blaine’s willing shaft. Tugging and playing Kurt told his lover, in very certain terms, what he demanded. Rediscovered lovers melted together, learning a dynamic they had never experienced before. Born of sorrow, and longing, they matured.

The memory of an old man recalled himself grazing at Kurt’s garden. With care, the more agile Blaine worked his way down the shoulder to the erogenous zones of the body. Kurt squirmed and moaned but in the present Blaine heard only his own breathing and the occasional sob. The two had spent their lives immersed in their love. He had few regrets.

Looking at a wrinkled hand, old Blaine felt content. Death had visited and now waited at the table nursing a cup of tea while playing cards. The Harvester of Souls had come like an old friend who patiently waited. Love held, and death knew he could not interrupt. An elderly man could not stop himself from smiling. The appendage between his legs stirred and pressed against cloth. After all these years Kurt could bring him to a moist state. They became one.

Thin, curly hair rubbed against the still hand an old man Blaine adored. Sorrow touched him, and a tear splashed against cooling skin. He stared at it for a long moment and in his chest old Blaine felt a sharp pop of pain. Radiating down his left arm, he drew in a deep breath and glanced to the table. Invisible to the mortal eye, the Harvester of Soul lifted his teacup understanding the virtues of patience.

Thankful for the moments he had left, an old man rested his head upon a still hands and smirked. Fond memories reminded of how Kurt filled him. It hurt when Kurt entered him, but it represented a good hurt. The renewed couple spent the night at the Hummel’s. Burt and Carole insisted after the impromptu party to celebrate their engagement. Just a little bit tipsy, the boys clung together not wanting to be apart for too long. It felt as if the last few months did not exist.

Toes curled up with the sensation of a prostate massage, sending shivers through his body. Eyes closed, they would open now and then to find Kurt staring at him with those alluring eyes. Longing for only one man consumed Blaine as he relished every thrust. Kurt kissed him all over as he reconnected with every inch of his twitching body. His tongue raked the area the ears, making Blaine squirm and giggle. Carded his fingers through Kurt’s hair before pulling him up for more kissed even as a deep thrust sent a seductive shiver up his spine.

Blue eyes rolled as Kurt gasped with excitement. Teetering on the edge, Kurt’s powerful love muscle made Blaine whimper. A mop of fussy hair pressed into the pillow as Blaine’s head thrashed about. Close to the point of no return, Blaine refused to touch himself. Allowing the pressure to naturally build up as Kurt’s inches worked them toward unbridled climax.

Recognizing the signs, Kurt suddenly, but gently pulled out. Gripping Blaine’s testicles lightly, he gently squeezed tearing his lover from the point of explosion. Blaine groan in disappointed.

Dripping lubricant on his fingers, Kurt lowered himself onto Blaine's overly sensitive pole. Taking it all in, he rode his lover until Blaine could take it no longer. Head thrown back, Blaine arched his body as he thrust up into Kurt seeking release. Letting out a loud moan, Kurt exploded, leaving a trail of white across Blaine’s chest. Riding Blaine well past the point of expulsion Kurt enjoyed trying to keep his struggling fiancé hard. Blaine’s eyes crossed and then Kurt relented and fell onto Blaine cuddling up. Utterly relaxed, blue lazily lost itself in hazel followed by a deep and passionate kiss.

An abrupt blink brought a taste of reality. Eyes fluttering open, Blaine realized they had drifted off to sleep. A ray of light shining down from the crack in the curtains causing Blaine to squint. The thin beam highlighted the curve of Kurt’s chest. With gentle ease, Blaine gently circled a finger about the nipple. Knowing how it aroused, Kurt he watched as the goose bumps rise on pale skin. Shutting his eyes, Blaine enjoyed the motion of his finger on warm skin knowing he could indulge this simple pleasure for the rest of his life.

Fussy hair pressed up against a bicep and the angelic sight made Blaine smile. Three times in less than twelve hours left him lovingly satisfied. The delicious hint of the perfection of his future life made him smile. Flawless. No, beyond flawless. Slowly he drifted off again into the land of loving dreams.

Someone stirred, and a head moved. Glistening blue stared up at Blaine with a happy smile. Wrapping his arms about Blaine’s head, Kurt soundly kissed the fussy haired man. Fingers ran through massed of curly hair in its natural, gel free look. Kurt shivered and then yawned a restful, morning yawn before he leaned his head against Blaine. In a low voice he said, “I’m all tingly.”

Blaine smiled back and brushed his lover’s hair. “You should use me like that more often.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“I can never get enough of you Mr. Hummel.”

“Oh, Mr. Anderson, you say all the right things.”

“I aim to hit the mark.”

“You aimed just fine for me. My mark won’t be the same for days.”

“We’ll have to make sure it remains tingly.”

“I’ll never forget how receptive you are to my pleasures.”

“I was that forgettable?” Blaine pulled his arm out from under Kurt to lean on one elbow. Blood rushed into his fingers.

Impishly grinning, Kurt reached up and pulled Blaine into a long and tender kiss.

“I love you, Kurt,” Blaine moaned with a heavy exhale as he nestled up against Kurt.

“I told you once I would never say good-bye,” Kurt gently replied.

Resting his right hand over Kurt’s heart, Blaine said, “This always knew, though our brains didn’t.”

Kurt’s left and fell on Blaine’s right. “You have always been a little blind in regards to the desires of your heart wanted.”

Snickering, Blaine admitted, “I guess I’m a little dense.”

Winking, Kurt whispered, “Your cock is dense, Mr. Anderson but never your heart.”

“The cobwebs muddled my brain.” Blaine grinned.

Kurt kissed Blaine softly on the lips. “I love you, my beautiful teenage dream.”


	24. Parents

“What do you want from me?” Blaine leaned back, and the legs of the kitchen chair scraped against the floor. Faint red edged up his neck and over his ears. 

Stiff backed with his ankle resting on his knee, he stared out the window into the backyard. His breath smelled of scotch. Daniel’s face remained resolute. “Common sense and some respect.”

“Respect? You’ve treated me like . . . and you want respect.”

“I’m your father.”

“Yeah, right. Now you want a say?”

“You never listened.”

“I never listened? You just can’t accept.”

“What, that you a faggot? That you’re―”

“Daniel” Pam’s voice rose over her husband’s.

Growling, Daniel’s eyes shifted away from the window to the ceiling. Swigging back the brown liquid in a clear tumbler, he sneered at his son. “I saw enough of what you do?”

“You’re telling me you never played with yourself,” Blaine shot back. “You haven’t seen half of what I can do. You―”

“Just watch your tongue, young man.”

“Are you going to hit me again?”

“You live under my roof and you do what I say.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re a kid who one day will grow up and learn he is wrong.”

“You know nothing about me.”

‘“I know you’re being stupid.”

“Look who’s―” Blaine stopped when his mother gave him a look. A spike pushed up into his heart and Blaine looked to his left where compassionate blue eyes stared back at him.

Seated at the kitchen table between her son and her husband, Pam did not look happy. Everything had been going fine until Daniel surprised everyone by walking in through the back door. He stopped the moment he saw Kurt, swore and he turned away. Standing, Pam insisted he stay and then both parents retreated from the room for a short, quiet but heated discussion. When Daniel sat, he had a large tumbler of scotch with him. 

“Daniel.” Determined to keep the peace Pam drew in a breath in an attempt to stay calm. Pushing her coffee mug in front of her to one side, she glared at the drink in her husband’s hand. She had not consumed alcohol in two months and did not want to again.

“It’s not right.” Daniel rolled his eyes.

“Not right?” Blaine’s face blossomed red and then Kurt’s hand fell on his arm bringing a sense of calm.

“Yes.” 

“Is this about grand children? Who says Kurt and I will not have kids?”

“Biology.”

“We’ll adopt.”

“The way you two fight.”

Glaring at his father, Blaine’s voice rose, “As if you are doing any better. You’re seeing a counselor because you―”

“That’s not fair, Blaine,” Kurt softly said as his hand slipped down his lover’s right hand.

A long, hard breath escaped Blaine’s lips as he glanced at Kurt with a thankful grin. The look on his face scared Blaine when Blaine invited his betrothed to speak to his mom about their relationship and New York. It all started out well and then it became a war zone. 

“The faery might have more sense than you.” Daniel snarled at his son even though his hard eyes glared at Kurt.

Simmering hazel eyes bore down on his dad how just sat there like a cold rock. Initially, he did not acknowledge Kurt until Pam cleared her throat. His body language displayed nothing but blatant disrespect for the man Blaine loved and his whole lifestyle. Other his last words, the only time he would show his face would be to rush Kurt out of the house about nine. He would not even allow them to kiss, though Blaine openly defied him in that regard. Having the darling man continued to anchor him. 

Fingers suddenly moved against his as if Kurt understood. Glancing at the man he loved, Blaine squeezed the hand in his. Letting out a sigh, he said, “You’re right, Kurt.”

Gently stroking the back of Blaine’s hand, Kurt tightened his grip and his eyes sparkled with emotion. A son noted the change in his father’s face. Loudly clearing his throat, Daniel stood and turned to leave the room. Nose curling up, he shook his head and muttered under his breath. 

“Really, Daniel?” Pam objected.

“Let me have some peace!” Blaine’s father shot back. Stomping over to the credenza visible from the kitchen, he poured himself a stiff scotch. “You expect me to give my blessing to . . . this act of sodomy.”

Blood pulsed in Blaine’s ears and dropped his words when Kurt moved his hand inside his. Youthful eyes met and then called to his dad, “You don’t have anything to do with it.”

“Damned right, I won’t!” Daniel downed have the drink in one gulp.

Blaine swallowed. “Being with Kurt makes me happy.”

“How long until you’re upstairs crying like a girl again. Fuck’n pussy . . . you’re―” Daniel tipped the bottle up into his glass again. 

Clearing her throat, Pam glared at her husband. “Now that was uncalled for.”

“Bullshit,” Daniel bluntly stated.

Kurt stiffened and shifted his gaze as Blaine’s lips curled in. He knew that look, but he also understood his lover’s soft and carrying side. 

“Daniel come back here and speak rationally,” Pam complained and then gave the two young men an apologetic look.

“For god’s sake.” Daniel shook his head and topped up his drink. “Two men aren’t meant to get married.”

“And who says so?” Pam gazed at her son and his future husband. She tried to keep it altogether. “The courts certainly don’t agree.”

“Liberals. Bloody liberals are going to destroy this nation,” Blaine’s father growled as he turned with a half-drunk beverage in his hand. “At least Ohio kept their whit’s and voted against this hogwash.”

Blaine laughed and tightened his grip on Kurt’s left hand.

Kurt glanced at Blaine, who returned a cautious look. He had witnessed Daniel’s anger before, but endured for the sake of his husband-to-be. If he ran, he would never forgive himself because bullying had a different meaning when a parent despised a child.

Daniel huffed and took a long draft of his drink. “Don’t count on me going.”

Blaine chewed on the words he wanted to say. He knew he would never count on his father for anything. In the corner of his eye he noted the look on his lover’s face and rubbed is thumb across Kurt’s hand for reassurance.

The silence amused Daniel and he laughed.

Giving her husband a hard look, Pam proudly announced. “I’m going to give my boy away.”

“Mom?” Blaine cooed with a smile and then he flashed a peaked at Kurt who looked surprised.

“Don’t encourage him.” Daniel glared at his wife. Downing his drink, he poured another one. “They’re already making fools of themselves.”

A mother’s eyes told the story, but her face remained calm. “Daniel, this is not open for discussion. You can sit here and be silly, all you want, but I love these two boys. Be a stick in the mud and stay in the stone age if you want but I won’t.”

“All this fu―” Daniel slammed his mouth shut.

“You don’t have to be there, dad.” Blaine drew in a deep breath. “In fact, I don’t want you there.”

“Good.” Daniel chugged down scotch. “Saves me writing a fuck’n reply.”

Pushing back her chair, Pam rose to her feet. A hand fell on her arm and she looked down at Kurt. Drawing air into her lungs, she let it out slowly giving Kurt an apologetic look and sank back to the chair. 

Leaning against the sideboard, Daniel chuckled. 

Shaking his head, Blaine said, “Do what you want, dad. I don’t care. Mom and Kurt’s parents are behind us. Cooper even said he would be there.”

Snorting, Daniel shook his head. “You perverted him too.”

A fist curled up out of view as Blaine’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s stop pretending, I’ve been an embarrassment since I was eight.”

“Only eight. Jesus, what a fucked―” Daniel’s face went white. He stared at Pam, who gazed at him with a face of steel. 

Catching the look forced Blaine to the back of his chair. For a moment, stunned silence reigned and then a son drew in a deep breath as something serious passed between his parents. Blaine witnessed headed discussions between Carole and Burt, but nothing like this. 

Daniel took a step closer, but Pam did not back down. His eyes narrowed and then he suddenly looked away.

Blaine felt the pulsing under his lover’s skin. He hated this and decided to end it with a simple announcement, “You may not like it, dad, but I love Kurt and we will be married. Kurt’s family has embraced me like a long lost son. You need not bother pretending anymore.”

Kurt tensed up as his eyes shifted toward Blaine. 

Laughing, Daniel stated, “They can have the little queer.”

“Daniel!” Pam screamed as she pushed her chair back. Aghast, she gave her husband a stern gaze and then looked to the boys and bit her lip.

“For god’s sake. He’s nothing―” Daniel caught himself and downed his drink back. Dropping the glass onto the wooden countertop he stormed off toward the front door.

Pam started to go after him and Kurt finally broke his silence, “Let him go, Mrs. Anderson.”

Mother and son both glanced at the pale young man who sat there heavily breathing became. The slamming of the front door startled Kurt. Turning to face Blaine, he gently stroked his lover’s cheek. “We expected a negative response but . . . well, he needs time to think and calm down.”

Blaine slumped in the chair with a shivering breath. Resting his head against Kurt’s shoulder, he felt a hand come to rest on the side of his head. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he felt his heart return to normal. 

Soothing his lover, Kurt whispered, “We didn’t allow the bullies in school to get us and neither will your father.”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry you had to sit through that.” A tear rolled from Blaine’s eye. “I feel horrible.”

“Don’t Blaine,” Kurt pleaded as he rubbed Blaine’s neck, Kurt let out a sigh to help shed the tension. “You are everything to me. Your dad is not always nice, but he’s your dad.”

“Kurt?” Blaine’s chest heaved in and out. 

“Biting your lips only makes them look puffy, Blaine.” Kurt pushed his body into Blaine’s. “Remember you’re with people who love you for who you are and what you are.”

“Oh, Blaine?” Pam’s voice broke the silence. 

Lifting his head, Blaine stared at his mother. Slowly standing, he glanced back at Kurt and then walked around the table. Wrapping his arms around the woman who brought him into the world, he hugged her. Laying his head on her chest, Blaine started to shake. Hazel locked on blue giving Blaine a sense of sudden relief. 

A tear glistened in Pam’s eye. “That man of yours is so good for you. Don’t lose him, again.”

Rolling his head along his mother’s breast without loosing sight of those lovely blue eyes, Blaine moaned, “I stood up to dad.”

“It’s alright,” Pam rubbed her son’s back. 

The realization suddenly hit Blaine and he began to shake. “Mom―” 

“Blaine, nothing will stop me from celebrating the love you have for Kurt.” Pam squeezed her son and looked to Kurt who just sat there staring. “I’ve never doubted. Times might have been tough, but the two you are meant to be together.”

Pulling back, Blaine wiped his eyes and looked to the man he loved. Holding out his hand, Kurt stood and took it. Blue eyes sparkled with admiration and compassion, making Blaine feel so lucky.

“Remember to always declare your love and never go to bed angry.” Pam laid a hand on two shoulders and then she glanced toward the front door. 

Hazel eyes followed and then Blaine found. A son got the message. “Mom?”

Patting her gorgeous son on the cheek, she looked to Kurt and said, “Now come over here and give your future mother-in-law a great big hug.”

Kurt kissed Blaine on the cheek and then fell into Pam’s arms. With her right hand, she pleaded with her son to join in. Wrapping his arms about both his mother and the love of his life, Blaine felt must better. The two most important people in his life share a moment with him. Deep down, he understood the sacrifice his mother had just made.

When he drew back, Blaine felt Kurt’s hand gently caress his. The past two weeks had been a whirlwind of happiness, nerves and uncertainty. Regardless of the upheaval, his wish came true when his soul mate returned to him. Their love might be a little battered, but it shown like a bright light in the fog. Never again did he want to hurt the dear man. Never again would he give into his base feeling. A young heart had learned a hard lesson. 

“I need a drink,” Pam groaned.

“Mom?” Blaine gave her a look.

Running her fingers through her son’s tightly gelled hair, Pam said, “Coffee. You want some boys?”

“I would love a refill.” Kurt let out a huge sigh, allowing the pressure drained from his face returning that boyish look. 

Pulling Kurt close, Blaine said to his mom, “Mom, you sounded positive about the wedding. Was that for dad’s benefit?”

“Yes and no,” Placing two mugs on the counter, Pam turned to her son with an adoring look. ““I suppose you haven’t discussed dates?” 

Two young men glanced at one another. The thought had obviously not crossed their minds. 

“I guess not,” Pam poured and then hand the lovers a mug each. “Oh, all in due time.”

“We need to take it slow, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt responded. His soft voice left the impression he had not completely relaxed just yet. 

“Oh, dear, you’re family now. Call me Pam.” “Blaine’s mother smiled. “And good for you wanting to take it slow.”

“We’re both young and have a lot to learn,” Blaine glanced at his love. “And we have some healing to do.”

“And you still need to finish high school, my love,” Pam patted her son on the cheek.

Blaine pouted as he looked to the young man beside him. “Kurt is set up in NYADA but I still need to find a college or university.”

“Or NYADA.” Kurt beamed. 

Blaine wanted to go to the school to be close to Kurt. The two of them could walk together, eat lunch, hanging out accompanied with lots of sex. The thought made him happy, but then he had reservations which he voiced, “NYADA. I would love that, but I don’t want to crowd you Kurt. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together. You . . . me . . . will need our space.”

Kurt frowned. “You don’t want to be with me.”

“The games of young love. I miss it.” Pam’s face spread into a wicked little grin. “You’re at the stage where you want to spend every waking and sleeping moment with each other. It’s good. It’s healthy.” 

Sad hazel eyes stared into blue.

“Don’t go there, boys.” Pam sat at the table and sipped her coffee and gave them a compassionate look. “You will learn soon enough. It’s healthy to have time apart, but for now, do what you have to do with no regrets.”

Blaine blushed as he considered what had happened to the previous conversation? His mom reacted as if nothing had happened, but Blaine could see it simmering. Dad might be angry, but nothing would come of it. Maybe? 

Winking at Kurt, Pam asked, “When are you going back to New York?”

“At the end of the week.” Kurt did not look happy.

“Being apart the last time was tough,” Blaine sucked in his lower lip.

Pam gave the two boys an inquisitive look. “All you need to do is avoid whatever caused the breakup.” 

The boys looked at each other and Blaine looked away first. Taking his cheeks in his hands. Kurt drew Blaine into a kiss. Pulling away, Kurt announced, “It’s not going to happen this time.”

“That’s good boys.” Smirking, Pam leaned back at her chairs, her eyes on the cups and plates needed to be cleared away.

Blushing, Blaine looked at his mom and said, “Don’t even think of clearing yet.”

“You two are so cute.” She gave Blaine a motherly look with a shrug. “I would like to help with the ceremony, but I know Kurt, he will want to do everything.”

The boys exchanged glances. Kurt piped up, “Of course we would like you to help.”

“When we make up our mind, I’ll let you know,” Blaine leaned forward placing a hand on his moms. More a gesture to give her strength for what still had to come, he did not want her to think she is alone.

“That’s good.” Pam placed her other hand on her son’s. 

Kurt’s eyes shifted toward Blaine. “My parents said we can use their backyard.”

Taking Kurt’s hand, Blaine rubbed his thumb over smooth skin. “I kind of like getting married in New York. I like Battery Park?”

“Really?” Kurt looked surprised.

“Really.” Blaine smiled.

Throwing his hands around Blaine’s neck, Kurt kissed him. Rocking back and forth, he suddenly pulled away when he noticed Pam staring at him. Porcelain white toned skin flushed red and Kurt suddenly looked down.

Grinning, Pam stood and started to collect the plates for a snack she had prepared when the boys showed up. “Now why don’t you go and do whatever you have to do.”

Blaine gave his mom a look.

“Just remember you have school in the morning, Blaine.” Pam wiggled a finger at her son. 

Kurt chuckled as he turned to face his lover. “Now be a good boy and go to bed by nine.”

The curly haired teen gave his fiancé a curious look and started to laugh. 

Pointing a finger, Kurt teased. “Don’t forget your homework.”

Rolling his eyes, Blaine kissed the finger. He had other ideas of what to do at with the number nine.

“Wow,” Kurt grinned from ear to ear. “I get to sleep in.”

“Not if I have my way,” Blaine winked. 

Grinning. Pam gave the boys a fond look. “Oh, run away and have fun”

“Mom?” Blaine looked disgusted.

Stacking the last of the plates, Pam glanced at her son and winked. “Shoo.”

Looking into the front hall, Blaine looked suddenly concerned. “I’ll stay mom.”

Turning the water on, Pam said without looking back, “I’ll be fine.”

Not convinced, Blaine stood and approached his mother. “What if dad comes back?” 

Swiveling about, Pam wrapped her arms about her son. “Everything will be good. Your father and I have argued before.”

Blaine pulled back. “But―” 

“Go take that gorgeous man of yours out and have fun.” She patted her son on the shoulder.

“You sure?” Kurt asked with a look of concern on his face.

“Boys, I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine,” Pam pulled them both into a hug. 

“Okay, mom,” Blaine said into her shoulder. “I’ll call you later to make sure everything is alright.”

“I’d like that.” Pam kissed her son on the head and pulled him into a tighter hug.

Stepping back, Blaine tapped Kurt on the arm. With his eyes he indicated the front door. “You sure mom?”

Kissing both young men on the cheek, Pam said, “Yes.”

Taking Kurt’s hand, Blaine led him toward the front door. Looking back a couple of times, Blaine felt Kurt pulling on his hand. Their eyes locked and Blaine could see the concern in those blue orbs but also need. They both knew they could not stay. 

Out on the front porch, Blaine stopped and placed a head on a pillar. From behind Kurt wrapped his arms about the man he loved. Leaning in, his head came to rest on the back of the shorter man’s shoulders. The expansion and contraction of Blaine’s chest spoke volumes.

The sensation of those arms around him released the stress and the warmth of Kurt’s touch spreading up his back. He loved the man with all his heart, but fear for his mother ate at him. His father had put her in the hospital once and that sent Blaine over the edge. Deep down, he knew he could go through it again because the blanket Kurt represented remained fragile. The elation of a proposal seethed through his veins, but he no illusion it would end. They had much to discuss before everything would be picture-perfect. His fear of fighting aside, he felt more grown up.

“You’re shaking,” Kurt whispered into Blaine’s ear.

The smell of fresh coffee rolled over Blaine nose and he smiled until he noticed his father’s car in the driveway. In a low tone, he said, “Dad must have gone for a walk.”

“Your mom will be fine.”

“I’m afraid of what will happen when he gets back.”

“They’d lock him up if he did that again.”

“Mom has not given up on him.”

“Blaine you can’t live her life for her.”

Though he could not see it, Blaine knew the expression on Kurt’s face. The tone of his lover’s voice gave it all away. The truth hurt though. Ever since they met, Blaine had been living his life through Kurt. No, they had been living their lives through each other. Kurt discovered himself in New York and dreaded what he might find out about himself. Though he put on airs, Blaine had never really been strong. He had not lied to Kurt when he told him, ‘I know how to do it in song’. Being separated from Kurt frightened him in ways he had never thought possible. It all had to do with age and inexperience, but then one dark, cold, snowy night he learned the opposite. The smell of fumes made him realize how deep he had fallen for the dear man. Did he have the strength? Yes. In his heart he knew he could do anything with Kurt at his side. 

Kurt quietly kept on speaking, “I’m not saying don’t love her and protect her, but she’s a grown woman. She can make up her own mind without help from the baby of the family.”

“Baby?” Blaine half turned to Kurt, who paused from putting the car in gear. 

His head slightly lowered as if he looked over invisible glasses, Kurt grinned and then added, “You are the youngest and you like suckling.”

“Oh, yes, but . . . baby?”

“I learned from my dad that I couldn’t make his choices for him and he couldn’t make them for me.”

“I guess I’m just worried.”

“And you should. The mess between them will get worked out one way or the other just as it had with us.”

“Meaning?”

Taking Blaine by the shoulders, Kurt turned her husband-to-be around. Leaning in, Kurt passionately kissed his boyfriend. Moist skin separated and remained half an inch apart. In a seductive tone, “Meaning you caught me and slipped a very beautiful ring on my finger. Now you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“We could go for a walk along the river.”

“Or we could go dancing?”

“Dancing?”

“Dancing.”

“But you have school tomorrow.”

“My mom told me to show my handsome boyfriend a good time. That’s exactly what I am going to do.”


	25. Something New

An old man smiled because, as usual, he brooded. Kurt, on the other hand, had this wonderful and maddening way of just shoving everything into a hidden compartment. The man he loved hated it when he brought something up again years later. It caused arguments, but also allowed them to grow. Yes, they acted like lovesick puppies even to the end. How could they not? It almost seemed like fate when their eyes first men, even if Blaine had misgivings though. Who would not? After all, he suffered the same failings as everyone else—jealousy, lust, remorse, pleasure and most of all love. He never got tired of being with Kurt even if the man annoyed him. He would trade none of it. 

Similar fond remembrances marked the day he felt the shackles loosen. It started out as a horrific heartbreak, but ended with warm blushing. On that day, for the first time, a teen had been brutally honest with the man he loved. The words of his proposal left him with a feeling of such joy he could have burst. As he came down, he realized he needed to open his heart. At the time Blaine did not know what an old man knew now. It saved them as a couple and friends.

This newly found freedom did not come without a price. Blaine struggled, but, like an onion, it unraveled over time. Advancing years made such memories hard to recall, but at this moment, Blaine saw everything with clarity. An old man marveled at how he had been and who he had become. The smells, the caresses and tastes came to him as if time meant little. Life might have left Kurt’s sexy body, but the essence of him remained embedded in the heart. A happenstance on a curving stare made it all happen.

Drawing large amounts of air into his chest caused pain to shoot down weary limbs reminding him of his nagging doubts. The conscious mind looked at is as a fault while the heart saw it as a means to face undermining issues. Long ago, he wrote the word ‘Courage’ into a text message. It held true now as it had on the dance floor. 

Curtains of darkness greeted them as two young men stepped through the door. Pin lights in the ceiling reflected on the face of the burly man at the door. The plaid texture of his shirt lost itself in the lack of light. Sudden brightness caused both boys to blink as a flashlight blasted in their faces. Holding out the identifications they had not used since the last time they had been here. The handsome man with a tight beard looked them up and down as he wiggled his jaw from side to side. Finally, he gave them a knowing look. Rolled his eyes, he handed their identifications back and signaled with his head they could enter. 

Blaine almost stumbled but Kurt’s steadfast calm soothed. Just as nervous as the last time he entered this place he remembered four words—Kurt’s date, Kurt’s choice. His handsome boyfriend wanted to dance, and Blaine loved the idea until he saw the door. 

Time held Scandals in a bubble. It still smelled of stale beer and the carpet still stuck to the bottom of their shoes. Dark walls and dim lighting made the perfect place for people to hide. The lights flashing above, red, yellow, green and blue, mixed with stark white forming patterns on the wooden floor. Reflecting off the mirror behind the bar and along two walls of the dance floor it gave the long room a feeling of excitement. The noise of people talking reverberated through the off pitch singing coming from the speakers at either end of the dance floor. Just past the entrance stood an average height, drag queen with less than average read here. Decked out in a dark green sequin gown with a bright plume of red rose up from the forehead in a great beehive. Facial makeup accentuated the eyes while trying to obscure masculine features. 

“Lucille Ball,’ Kurt murmured to Blaine as they walked by. 

“She needs a long cigarette.” Blaine whispered.

“And new shoes.” Kurt tried not to make it look as if he looked the drag queen up and down. 

Nodding, Blaine could not help up notice how many eyes fell on them. “I feel like fresh, young meat.”

Inches from Blaine’s ear, Kurt softly announced, “But you’re my fresh young meat.” 

Taking Kurt’s left hand in his right made Blaine more comfortable. In a raised voice the curly headed boy added, “The crowd looks the same.”

“Yeah. What do we have here? A mix of thirty something to ancient.”

“Kurt?”

“The younger crowd will not show up until after midnight mostly out of fear. About one, the older crowd will flock about the young ones like hungry vultures.”

“New York knowledge.”

“I heard people talk. Look over at the end of the bar.”

Hazel eyes shifted to where two drag queens dressed in red and yellow with large blond hair stood off to one side talking to an elderly gentleman. They looked like matched bookends in slinky mini-dresses with rhinestones and tiaras. Huge lashes flared out from makeup heavy eyes. With legs for days, their seven-inch heels made Blaine feel like a dwarf. The casually dressed middle-aged man squished between them took note of Blaine. One eye opened wider as his tongue slithered over his lips. Without thinking Blaine gripped Kurt’s hand tighter.

On the stage a man in his mid-forties song with the words projected on a television screen. A few paces from the amateur show, a group of men dressed as if they had just come off the fields laughed. Beers in hand, two sat while the other two stood facing them. They cheered their mate on stage while making jokes. 

“This is kind of disappointing,” Blaine commented in a low voice so the three men they passed by would not hear them. “I bet if we were in New York this place would be packed.”

“Fear does not―” Kurt suddenly jumped a gazed at Blaine with a scrunched up brow. “Someone just pinched my bum.”

“Damn, I wanted to do that,” Blaine playfully replied with a huge smile. With tug he pulled Kurt out of range.

“Later,” Kurt leaned in with an impish grin as his eyes darted here and there.

“Promises, promises,” Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand. 

“What do you want to drink, honey?”

“Not as much as the last time we were here.”

“I blame it all on someone’s need to get into your pants.”

“You mean his need to get me back with the Warblers. He would have loved me and left anyhow.”

“I would have fought for you.”

“A real knock down drag out fight.”

“Finn would have wiped his ass.”

Blaine chuckled and began to walk toward the bar. Regardless of being eye candy for someone in their sixties, Blaine felt good because he reentered the place of a past disgrace with the love of his life in his arms. Better yet, there appeared to be no skinny Warbler would split them apart. Great! Last year, Kurt sat on one of the bar stools watching Sebastian doing everything he could to keep Blaine in the sack. Oddly, he recalled, looked in those blue eyes to reassuring Kurt. 

Clutching Kurt’s hand again, Blaine said with a smile, “I’ll have a beer, but after two I’ll switch to soda and lime juice. You’ll probably have something with an umbrella in it.”

“Na,” Kurt looked at his lover with those heavenly eyes. “I think I will have a gin and tonic.”

“A grown-up drink?”

“I learned a few things in New York.”

“Like drinking?”

“And other things.”

The mood suddenly shifted and Blaine’s face sort of dropped. 

“Don’t you worry, my fuzzy haired fiancé?” Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine. “Everything I learned, I did for you.”

“Adam?”

“Jealous?”

“A little.”

Leaning into his boyfriend, Kurt shoved him playfully. “You’re so sweet when you’re jealous.”

“Me?” Blaine placed a hand on his chest. He could feel his heart pounding.

With a grin, Kurt poked Blaine in the chest. “You.”

Tugging his love toward the bar, Blaine ordered two gin and tonics. Cooper had introduced his younger, underage brother to several types of alcohol last fall when the kid’s life spun in the balance. If Kurt liked it, Blaine could at least give it a try. 

Glasses clinked together, and the two boys took a sip. Blaine’s face pulled in and Kurt laughed. Standing side by side, almost like real adults having an adult drink in an adult bar felt wonderful. For a moment Blaine felt he could burst out into song, but then liquid bravery might help. Well no. The last time he let it all go, he sort of did a semi-strip tease. 

“Let’s dance?” Kurt suddenly suggested.

Suddenly Blaine did not feel all that courageous. Glancing at his drink Blaine gave Kurt a look and then shook his head. 

“You’re playing sexily shy,” Kurt teased before taking a long swig of his drink.

“I don’t have your experiences,” Blaine blurt out before he could think.

Kurt hesitated and then quietly said, “You have all the experience I need and in all the right ways.”

Blushing, Blaine’s smile could have lit the room. Preparing himself for the taste to come, he took a large sip of his drink. Nodding, he barely noticed someone squeeze between himself and his lover. A hand fell on his chest and another on his shoulder pushing him back. 

Taking a sudden step Blaine exclaimed, “Hey!”

“Don’t get too excited Warblerboy,” a familiar voice said in hushed tones.

“Sebastian?” Blaine focused on the man pressed between himself and Kurt. Dark brows pushed together as he tried to see around the obstruction to find Kurt. The force of the shove had almost knocked his boyfriend off his feet. His adorable fiancé caught the stool preventing it from toppling over.

“Hi there lover boy. Out on the town painting it parsley?” Sebastian eyes glistened with mischief as he pushed past Kurt to edge out a larger space for himself.

Pinkish red highlights flushed across Blaine’s cheeks as a memory flashed in his mind. Something wet splashed his face, followed by aching roughness grating against his eye. He blinked. 

Sebastian smirked and pressed closer. “I had that much of an effect on you.”

Regaining his composure, Blaine’s eyes looked past Sebastian. Anger pinched his chest when he noted the look on the face of the man he loved. A foot moved so Blaine could step around Sebastian, but the annoying and often charming Dalton student anticipated the action. 

Grinning at the shorter man with gelled down curly hair, Sebastian almost looked apologetic. Spinning around, he said in a low, almost mockingly quiet tone, “Oh, didn’t see you there, Kurt.”

Kurt grinned at the beady eyed snake.

Ignoring Kurt, the slushy thrower turned his attention back to Blaine. With one of his patented charming, snake oil smiles he said, “It was fun to be included in your little drama.”

“It wasn’t a drama, Sebastian. I meant every word of it.” Peering past Sebastian Blaine could see the rage brewing in those charming blue eyes. Subtly shaking his head at his lover as if to say ‘keep it cool’.

Sebastian drooled, “Do I get a dance?” 

Images of Kurt driving himself between a slightly inebriated and all too innocent boy and a viper danced within Blaine’s mind. That night Kurt became his chivalrous knight even though it took Blaine a couple of days to realize it. A moment on an empty stage brought two hearts back together again. In the days which followed Blaine looked at his life to discover he lived with his head in the clouds. He dreamed of the future while Kurt lived for the moment and planned.

Head cocked to one side, Blaine’s expression changed. “Yes, I came here to dance.”

Sebastian’s eyes lit up and then his lips twisted into a smirk. Flushing ever so slightly Blaine reached out taking Kurt’s hand. Hauling the man he loved out on the dance floor, they left a bothersome snake coiled on a stool. Once out on the dance floor, two lovers held hands while they danced. The smarmy Warbler tried to impose himself on them once, but got shut out as two young men closed ranks. Eventually Sebastian gave up when a few young men paused just inside the front door and looked around. Like a viper, he chose his target and moved in for the kill. 

After a slower piece where Blaine drew his lover close, they decided to leave. For a weeknight the club did not really fill up, but it did get busier. Sebastian had been turned down by one his target and has shifted to another. Watching over Kurt’s shoulder, he rolled his eyes and then took Kurt’s hand, leading him from toward the door. 

“Your date’s not over yet.” Blaine gave Kurt a sly look and then blew his lover a kiss across the top of the car. The clock beat at half past eleven and Blaine felt happy. He ordered two spirited drinks, but finished only one because watching Kurt dance had been enough to get him high. 

Bashfully smiling and happily sated from dancing, Kurt returned the gesture. “I loved the first part, especially the look on Sebastian’s face.”

Looking up at the moon, Blaine hesitated.

“What are you thinking my beautiful daydreamer?” Leaning against the edge of the car, the door swung back hitting Kurt in the rump.

“Making a wish.”

“Oh?”

“A wished we’ll dance together for the rest of our lives.”

“I think I can help make that come true.”

“Me too.”

“You hungry?”

“What do you suggest?”

“You’ll see.”

Dark, thick brows pulled together as Blaine gazed at Kurt. He tried to give Kurt an ‘I’m not impressed’ look, but it just did not come off that way. Twenty minutes later they sat side by side in a moderately lit booth in a restaurant Blaine would normally not go to. Narrow eyes studied the dish before him with uncertainty.

“Try it?” Kurt urged.

Blaine’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know?” 

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Kurt purred. “When you get New York, you’re going to have to try all sorts of things. The city has food from all over the world.”

The face of the teen with the gelled down hair contorted. “But it’s not cooked?”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt grinned. “Duh, it's sushi.”

“I know they eat this stuff on TV and in the movies but―”

“Millions of Japanese eat this every day and all that oil is good for the complexion.”

“Taking the vanity route isn’t going to get me to try that.”

“Yeah, but it’ll make your skin look so good.”

“What am I, a dog? Am I supposed to wag my tail?”

“Oh Blaine, your curly locks are so soft, and you have a wonderfully thick tail.”

Brows pushing together, Blaine gave Kurt an odd look. In a serious tone he commented, “You’ve changed.”

“New York changes everyone who goes there.” Scooting closer on the bench, Kurt’s thigh pressed against Blaine’s. Leaning closer he pointed at some of the rolls and other stuff on the plate with his chopsticks. “This is cooked prawns―”

The closeness of his fiancé caused the heart to skip a beat. Blaine loved the man, but? Yes, but? The word change resonated within his mind. Kurt looked so adorable, he had to give in. A lopsided smirk pushed up Blaine’s check and he said, “I guess it's safe then. What of the ones just hanging there over a block of rice like some sacrifice to an Aztec god?”

“Tuna, tuna, prawn and salmon.”

“I never thought there were so many different kinds of tuna.”

“There’s tons.”

“We could have gotten a burger or a salad?”

Chuckling, Kurt pushed his shoulder into Blaine’s. “My date, my place.”

“I’ll remember that.” Blaine pointed a chopstick at the adorable young man with an impish grin. Having not mastered them, he held them like spears. “I guess I have to try.”

Nimbly picking up a prawn wrapped in rice with his chopsticks, Kurt held it up to Blaine and honey amber locked on blue. Not wanting to do this, the expression on Kurt’s face sunk into his heart—innocence mixed with a hint of new world adventure. It worked. Leaning forward, he accepted the offering and closed his mouth around the morsel. It filled the entire cavity of his mouth like something else he enjoyed. 

One eyebrow went up, followed by another. Chewing, he disliked the way the rice stuck to his teeth as he nodded. Gulping it down, he admitted, “This isn’t bad.”

Triumphantly grinning, Kurt squeezed Blaine’s leg. Staring at the handsome man he slyly smiled. “I told you.”

“I should never have doubted.” Blaine reached out to the plate stabbing another roll.

From out of the blue, the boy who never wanted to show affection in public leaned close and gave Blaine a chaste peck on the lips. 

Surprised, Blaine eyes darted about.

“You’re blushing,” Kurt cooed as his nose rested barely and inch from Blaine’s ear.

Blaine felt a warm air puff against Kurt’s skin and turned so his nose lay within an inch of his. “I’ve always been the mushy.”

“I like mushy.”

“When I’m all over the place. I was not always like this.”

“Yes, you were. You just hid it well in the blazer of yours.”

“I did look good.”

“Yes, you did.”

Blaine suddenly sighed.

Brows pressing together, Kurt softly asked, “What?”

“Can we talk about it later?”

“You can’t let things worry you so much.”

“Kurt . . . it’s just―”

“That you want to enjoy every last second with me.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, we’ll table this until later, but time’s running out.”

“I know.” Blaine looked sad. “Sunday will be here too soon.”

Taking Blaine’s hand in his, Kurt gently kissed it. That got them a few looks, but he ignored them and said, “I promise you it won’t be like last time. We’ve learned so much about what love really is.”

Smiling, Blaine peeked Kurt on the lips followed by a rush of pink up his neck and cheeks. Since the proposal Kurt exuded confidence, and tonight, he held nothing back. Blaine found it refreshing and a little bit scary at the same time.

“That’s a down payment, I hope.” Blue eyes scanned over Blaine’s shoulder discovering a few people staring. 

“You bet it is.” Blaine impishly winked. Hazel froze on blue. His brow twitched with every beat of his heart.

“You’re not going to lose me, Blaine.”

“I almost did.”

“True, but I didn’t enjoy it either.”

“When we spoke at Grease, it killed me.”

“I was a miserable so-in-so who could not see a good thing through my own pride. And before you go there. Yes, we hurt each other.”

“And Adam.”

“He’s nice but, as is I said, he is not you. It just took smooching in a backseat of a car to make me realize it.”

“Poor Tina.”

“Poor Mercedes. But you know me . . . stubborn. When you asked me to stick around for regionals, I knew something was up, but then you were so cute. It felt like I was looking into the eyes of a big puppy dog. How could I resist that?”

“Rolled up newspaper as floor play.”

Kurt’s skin reddened. 

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. “You liked that.”

To change the subject, he picked one of the salmon rolls and held it out for Blaine. 

Taking the food into his mouth, the people about them caught Blaine’s attention. An older couple near the window gave him a sour look. Across the room, he saw a scruffy young man with long, messy hair taking their picture with a phone.

Gripping a piece of sashimi, Kurt popped it into his mouth and went to pick up his tea. His head moved to his left and stopped. Out of view of the rest of the restaurant, he took Blaine’s hand. He followed through with an air kiss before whispering, “You’re worried. Your brow is twitching.”

Swallowing, a deep breath filled Blaine’s lungs. He tried to keep things upbeat for Kurt, after all, his date, his rules. “Just thinking of today.”

“Your mom will be fine.” Kurt rubbed Blaine’s thigh.

The tightness in Blaine’s chest flickered with pain. Sighing, he smiled at Kurt and whispered. “Thank you for making me feel better.”

“Any time, sweetie.”

“I guess I’m still feeling a little raw.

“It was uncomfortable.”

“Yeah. I hate to think what could be happening back home.”

“I know and worried.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going back to New York leaving you here in a toxic environment. Can’t I worry?”

Bumping his shoulder into Kurt's, Blaine smiled and added, “I worry about you too?”

Two boys stared at each other for a few seconds. Emotion filled their eyes. Bowing his head ever so slightly Kurt softly said, “We’ll be alright.”

Nodding, Blaine shyly grinned. “I dread going back home to the lonely bed and my father.”

“Believe me, I want to be in that bed next to you. Even if I still lived here, we couldn’t do that until we moved out.”

“It’s such a nice thought.”

“Waking up to you every morning would be beautiful.”

Toying with his food, Blaine tipped a roll of rice and something else over onto its side. “I wish I could go with you.”

Kurt shifted on the bench so that his body faced Blaine and hoarsely responded, “Me too.” 

“My protective side says I need to take care of my mom.” Blaine sighed. “But my heart wants―”

A knee pressed against Blaine’s thigh and Kurt whispered. “I hate it too.”

Blaine looked down. “But―”

“You have nothing to fear, my love.” Kurt’s left hand slipped into Blaine’s right. “I’ve already told Adam.”

Blaine’s amazement reflected in his face as he drew back.

Kurt did not look so happy. “He did not take it well.” 

“I can imagine.” 

“I did feel something for him.”

“I know.”

Kurt squeezed the hand he held.

“History being history, we don’t want to repeat what was. I just want to find ways to keep us happy and our relationship healthy.” The truth shown in Blaine’s eyes. 

“I want that as well.”

“I know our days apart will be tedious, but it’s only a few months to graduation.”

“I’m coming to watch you throw your cap in the air.”

“Kurt, Pandora’s Box opened when I took your hand that day. Being apart from you was such anguish. I beat myself every day. I―” Blaine’s voice died away. He could not say it. Tiny flakes of snow invaded his thoughts and the smell of car exhaust.

Placing a hand on his fiancé’s cheek, he looked concerned. “Blaine?”

“New York and NYADA have been good to you.”

“It will be for you too.”

“Kurt, I see a whole new life in your eyes.”

“And it scares you.”

“Am I ready for it? I don’t know.”

“If it helps, I’ll be there with you all the way.”

“One thing I do know is I want to be with you always.”

“So, do I.”

“I missed you so much. It's almost. . . well.“ Blaine’s heart froze. He could not reveal that. “Sam, Tina and Artie filled the spaces, but my heart felt so empty.” 

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt’s hand fell onto Blaine’s lap. 

Sad hazel eyes locked on blue as waves of pain swelled through Blaine’s heart. “You never left me Kurt. How could you? I walked the halls and heard your voice. Sitting the courtyard made me think of lunches in the sun. Every time I would look to the seat you usually occupied, I felt pain.”

Wetness glistened in Kurt’s eyes. 

Finding it impossible to tear his eyes from Kurt, Blaine felt the tension in his chest ease. In a low tone he admitted, “I failed the person I love and the person I am. Nothing could have prepared me for what I felt.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Kurt gave Blaine an inquisitive look.

Blaine gazed at Kurt with wet eyes. “Honestly, Kurt, I hate the idea of being alone again. After I did what I did, my soul wept. I never want to feel that again.”


	26. Surprise

“Are you crying?” Kurt quietly asked.

“No . . .” Blaine looked embarrassed. “Well . . . yes.”

Pulling back from the hug, Kurt wiped the tear from Blaine’s cheek. Sucking on his salty finger, he said in the softest tone, “M-m-m-m, your taste. It will need to keep me until we are together again.”

Fondly smiling, Blaine sniffled. Laying his head, no Kurt’s shoulder, his heart pounded in his chest.

Running a hand across the back of fiancé’s neck, Kurt whispered in a soft tone, “I love you, Blaine. I really do.”

“I love you too,” Blaine choked on the words and lifted his head. Gazing into those warm blue eyes, he added, “I miss you already.”

Kurt kissed Blaine and pulled him closer. “I’m looking forward to being at the airport when you finally move to New York. I might have a little surprise for you.” 

After the kiss, Blaine smiled. “Really?”

“Really.” Kurt hugged Blaine again.

A hand fell onto Kurt’s shoulder. His father stepped closer saying, “Time to go through security. Don’t worry Kurt, Carole and I will watch out for Blaine.”

One more fabulous hug and Kurt sucked in a deep breath. Picked up his bag he kissed his lover and his parents. Looking back as he passed through the barrier toward the first official, he waved, and three hands flapped back. The teen among adults snuffled by tears and Carole slid her arm about Blaine’s shoulder to comfort him. 

Hazel eyes blinked bringing everything into perspective. Rain dripped on the window driving steaks of grim down the side of the bus. The subway had been busy but, this? He could have walked faster. The noise crashed in on him and the faint hint of garbage wafted through the open window along with the shrill honking of horns. The woman beside him loudly chatted on her phone while two kids up front screamed as their mother stared out the window at the street. 

Holding his bag on his lap, Blaine endured the seemingly endless bus ride. The driver argued with one or two passengers as the traffic crawled along at a snail’s pace. On one hand Blaine loved it. The thrill of life gripped him, but then the mountains of concrete made him pout. Ohio had so much open space and here it squeezed in on you like giants waiting to stomp. The first time he visited the sights amazed him. So big. So tall. Stars filled his eyes. The second time the luster fell away as he saw the other side of New York. The massive city forced Kurt to change and Blaine struggled with the newness.

Excited by the prospect of seeing his love, Blaine held his emotions tight. Since Kurt returned to New York, Blaine felt frantic, then calm and very much in love. Marriage loomed in his future and that, by itself, stopped him from going bonkers. On top of everything, a surprise package from Kurt provided a questionable method of release—a sex toy. The gesture puzzled Blaine until that evening Skype season when Kurt revealed he had bought a Blaine sized device for himself. Making love that way felt weird and by no means the same, but it tamed an itch Blaine refused to scratch. 

The two Skyped every day and talked about many things. Yes, they still watched their favourite shows and browsed the holy bible of fashion—GQ. Kurt, while being his somewhat selfish self, did not monopolize the conversations. Over time they learned to listen without getting excited, and that did not stop Kurt from getting mad a couple of times. When Blaine exploded, they did not talk until the next day. 

The fight pushed Blaine into hysterics. Thank god, Daniel traveled for business and unfortunately his mom worked late leaving a panicky teen to his own devices. A surprise call from Cooper brought Blaine’s ego up short when his brother put it all on the line by agreeing with Kurt. Blaine had to admit it, he acted like an idiot. The next morning, he called Kurt before the sunrise and sucked up. Lying on their respective beds, staring at each other, tears filled their eyes. 

The sobering moment caused Blaine days of hardship because he missed Kurt so much it hurt. Early morning cybersex wore thin and he had two problems which got in the way of the real thing—school and money. The disappointment sent him into a spiral which Kurt easily picked up on. One-night Blaine embarrassed himself when he got super sentimental and cried. For the next two hours they softly talked and consoled each other. Kurt missed Blaine just as much.

A sudden stop jolted Blaine into the side of the bus. A rush of fresh air raced through the tight space as people clambered to get off while a rider climbed on. The noise level rose again and then it moved on. Looking out the window, he saw a street sign―only five more blocks. Eyes rolled up and became fixed on an advertisement for a New York coffee chain. It took him back to the Lima Bean where someone loudly cleared their throated, almost on top of him.

Startled, Blaine’s head shot up revealing the imprint of his knuckles pressed into his cheek. Engrossed in his thoughts, he had not even noticed the man’s approach. He stammered. “Uh . . . Burt?” 

Putting a coffee down on the small round table and taking off his jacket, Burt asked, “Can I join you.”

By the looks of things, he no choice, thus Blaine nodded and then shook his head. Closing the textbook he had been engrossed in and replied, “Please do.”

Pulling out a chair and sitting, Burt placed his coffee on the table. His eyes raked over the book with a pen on the fold and a half-drunk coffee. “You’re a little wrapped up.”

“Guess I’m tired of studying.” Blaine helplessly shrugged. “How are you today?”

“Good, good, but I am more worried about you?”

Sitting up, Blaine looked Burt right in the eyes. His tongue moved about his lips and then he grinned. “Thank you, Burt. I’m doing alright.”

“Blaine, I’ve been around the block a few more times than you have.” Burt sat back and sipped his coffee. “While I appreciate you wanting to do this all on your own, be real.”

The teen looked surprised “What do you mean?”

“You’re in school with a part time job at the music store. You miss Kurt, right?”

“More than you can believe.”

“I can believe a lot, kid. I miss him too. He looked like a forlorn puppy.”

“You saw him?” Blaine suddenly became alert. Shuffling forward on his chair, he did not want to miss a word. His elbow knocked his drink. He caught it before it toppled over.

“I stayed over Sunday night on my way to Washington. He’s doing well and has been keeping himself busy. The only thing he wanted to talk about was you.”

A deep sigh escaped Blaine’s nostrils. 

Reaching into his inside coat pocket, Burt pulled out an envelope. Pushing it across the table, he did not say a word. 

Hazel orbs stared at the normal and oddly flat envelope. Blaine felt disappointed and for a second the thought Burt might be delivering a little something from his son. “What’s this?”

“Just open it.” Burt hid his smile behind the rim of his coffee cup.

Picking it up, Blaine’s brows pulled together because it felt heavy. Opening it, Blaine’s stared at several sheets of folded paper. Tugging it out and flipping one end up his eyes went wide—prepaid airline tickets. Staring at Burt he said, “I can’t accept this.”

Straight backed and straight-faced, Burt said, “Think of it as an investment.”

Shaking his head, Blaine gave Burt one of those crowd wooing smiles. Exhilaration struck his heart, even as his mind argued.

“Consider it an interest free loan,” Pam suddenly said from behind.

Whirling around Blaine’s eyes went wide. “Mom?”

Sneaking in while Burt kept Blaine distracted, Pam hugged her youngest son and then sat. Mischief glistened in her eyes, making her look mysterious and beautiful. Blaine always considered his mother to be Hollywood stunner making it obvious his dad had not given him his good looks. As a kid, Pam’s normal carefree attitude thrilled Blaine. As he grew and the truth of his sexuality came out it wilted under the pressure. He hated it.

Burt grinned and said to Blaine, “Carole, your mother and I don’t want to see the two of you return to that miserable state. You’re getting married and we can’t have it all falling apart.”

The look on Blaine’s face hardened at first as his brows furrowed. Morally he could not do this, but seconds later, his expression softened, and he allowed himself a small, almost embarrassed smile.

“Look at it this way,” Burt’s lips curled up into an impish grin. “I’ll never get grandkids if two of you stop trying.”

The older teenager laughed, and the adults joined in. Kurt often baby sat the neighbour’s kids and Blaine enjoyed watching him play with them. He would have them running around the backyard yelling and screaming just as they youngsters did. The usually guarded teen let his barriers down and just have a good time. 

Kids? A dreamy look crossed Blaine’s face. He supposed there could, especially with the news talking about the court’s ruling in favour of gay adoption. He had heard of women carrying children for male couples, but the two head strong young men had to get to the altar first.

“I think he’s broken,” Pam playfully commented as he watched her son. 

Shaking his head, Blaine blinked. “What?”

Burt smirked and sipped his coffee.

“You’ll accept this?” Pam quietly tapped the pile of tickets.

“Mom, while its great of you, Burt and Carole, I―” A hand falling on Blaine’s shoulder cut off the teen off. Glancing up at his mother, her long fingernails drew a pattern on his skin. His mother always did that when she wanted to be persuasive.

Burt stared at his future son-in-law. “Blaine, I know how hard this is for you. Believe me, it’s hard on Kurt too. He misses you just as much. In fact, he told me so a couple of hours ago.”

A flush of heat rolled up Blaine’s chest into his cheeks. Kurt thought of him made his stomach somersault. 

Pam patted her son’s hand. “You’ve always been stubborn and doing this would make me so happy.”

Blaine blushed. “What about dad?”

“He has no say in this.” Pam’s eyes narrowed and then brightened. “Cooper even chipped in.”

Flickering eyes temporarily blocked Blaine’s view.

“Blaine, you don’t have to accept this if you don’t want.” Burt’s narrowed as he sipped his coffee. “The two of you are almost men―”

“Not quite yet.” Pam interrupted.

“For all intensive purposes, they are. Regardless of what I had to say, you had the guts to ask my son to marry you. In my books that makes you a man, Blaine. You know what you want, and you know it will not be easy.”

“Oh, I know it, sir.” Blaine shyly responded as an embarrassed blush raced up his neck. 

“Knock off the sir stuff. You’re family, Blaine and have been for a long time now.” Burt gave Blaine one of those smiles. “Kurt knows nothing of this. Go this Friday and surprise him. He’ll love it.”

“I’ll send a note to school and tell them you will be leaving early.” Pam smiled.

A chair scraped against the floor as Blaine rose and threw his arms about his mother. Hugging her, his head fell against her shoulder. At the edge of life, an old man loved the sensation bubbling in his chest. When two teenagers first met, Blaine had been a different person and being with Kurt changed him. At McKinley he found a purpose, even though he missed his fellow Warblers. He met with Trent for coffee often enough. The large set Warbler remained a close friend until his death twenty-five years ago. Sitting behind his desk in an office in central Texas, he had a massive heart attack. Many Warblers showed up for the funeral giving him a musical farewell.

Wishing he had his glasses, old Blaine turned his head and gazed at the man he loved wanting to see the twinkle in those blue eyes. Years of staring into those unforgettable eyes burned an image forever into his mind and eighty, ninety or even one hundred years did not seem like enough. He often wondered what would happen if they could have lived for one thousand or even ten thousand years. The thought made him laugh because Kurt considered such things as flights of fancy. Blaine looked at them as a brave new world his soul longed to explore.

Fortunately, they survived the turmoil of climate change almost reaching their hundredth birthdays and Blaine could not feel prouder. Laying his head on Kurt’s wrinkled hand, his mind shifted back into his life. The days of his youth unfolded about him as if he read a book. The memory of his younger self sitting nervously in the airport lounge amused an old man. Giddy, nervous and a little bit frightened, he held his phone in his hand. Kurt should be between classes. Fidgeting with the mobile device his fingers swiped a number and then suddenly canceled the call. He felt stupid because Kurt would pick up on the excitement in his voice.

Patting the hand of his departed lover, old Blaine looked up at his quiet face and smiled. So beautiful, even in death. Love filled old hazel eyes as it did the first day they first met. Holding hands and quiet chats pleased Blaine. Making up after an argument or finding a special moment between the cries of babies made Kurt’s eyes shine stronger. Mischievous acts of surprise, like a bubble gum wrapper ring, brought devilish delight.

They knew themselves too well. Every little twitch or body motion told a story Blaine found wonderfully enticing. A little flick of the lip and the way a Kurt rolled his index finger in revealed the mood. On stage they played off each other with unspoken grace. 

One hot and sunny May morning, Blaine snuck up at a boy leaning against a tree with a book on his lap. Kurt’s pristine jacket lay neatly folded on his back with his lunch sitting on top of it. Both had a spare period before lunch and Kurt had asked Blaine to meet him at their spot at the end of his gym class. 

An old man chuckled at the thought because he loved the awareness the moment brought.

Feeling rambunctious suited young Blaine. After all, he kissed a boy and really. . . really liked it. Taking it slow allowed all sorts of fantasies to fill his mind. What did Kurt look like under all those layers? The package between his legs titillated. What would it be like? Blaine blushed, but his already flushed skin hid it.

Bending over pretending to catch his breath, but Blaine’s eyes remained locked on the target. Other boys sped by him on their way to the locker room after they long run. Stan slowed to see if Blaine needed help, but he just waved the dark headed hunk on. Stan had a great body for his age and entertained, not one but two girlfriends. Oddly, Stan found the idea of a guy ogling him flattering. Blaine, young and old, had to smile. Stan, like everyone else, knew Blaine had the hots for Kurt before Blaine did himself. It made for a few good and often embarrassing laughs.

With the coast clear and Kurt spellbound by his reading, Blaine crept through the flower bed avoiding the gardener’s prized blooms. At one point, the soles of his shoe squeaked, and he froze. Slipping his feet out of his sneakers and then stooped down to pick them up. Padding across the grass in his bare feet due to his customary lack of socks, he came up on Kurt’s blind side. Peering around the curving edge of the tree at the adorable teen, he broke into a huge smile just before he leaped out.

The book went for a fly landing a few feet away. Kurt’s hand had come up to his chest as his face registered surprise. Kurt panted as he suppressed the words he would have rather not used. His high-pitched voice echoed through the garden, “Blaine?” 

“Surprise!” Blaine crouched down with a huge smile. 

The expression on Kurt’s face shifted from anger to the cutest smirk. Blaine watched him with adoring eyes soaking in every morsel Kurt offered. Those stunning blue eyes stared right into his making Blaine melt. Everything about Kurt made him swoon. He wanted a taste of those lips and as the years drifted by, kissing had become one of their favourite pass times. Of course, in the beginning, Kurt, being Kurt, shied away, only to become an enthusiastic participate later. 

On that day, in the garden of their youth, Kurt blushed. He looked so charming when his naturally pale skin tone turned rosy. The smoothness around Kurt’s eyes titillated and those long lashes made Blaine feel warm inside. Those crystalline pools had a grip on him and then Blaine realized why Kurt flushed. Tugging on the tank top stuffed in the back of his shorts, he awkwardly pulled it over his head.

Kurt’s brows pressed together and then redness of his skin deepened. He stared at Blaine with hungry eyes.

Sitting cross-legged on the grass, young Blaine dropped his shoes beside him. “Sorry, I scared you.”

“No . . . no,” Kurt faltered on two simple words. 

“Am I interrupting?”

“It’s just history.”

“Not Charlemagne again.” 

“You did the ten-mile run?”

“Yeah, I’m a little winded.”

“I noticed.” Kurt’s eyes shifted away and back. 

Smiling, Blaine looked around and then placed a hand on Kurt’s. “I should go shower.”

“Ah, yeah . . . Blaine―” Kurt glanced shifted back as his face grew redder. Eyes locked on the other teen’s chest and he grinned.

Curious, Blaine leaned forward. “Kurt?”

Lowering his head and then peeked back at his handsome boyfriend. Innocently Kurt spoke in a soft tone, “This is the first time I’ve seen you with your shirt off.”

Eyes opening wide Blaine thought Kurt had noticed the spreading tent in his shorts. Well, he might have, but his words still came as a pleasant surprise. 

Kurt shyly grinned. “You’re . . . you’re so perfect.”

The word prefect bounced around invaded his dreams that night. Waking up three times he could not get it out of his head. For a young, impressionable teen who had never had a lover before, it filled his heart with joy. Kurt started the habit of singing the song ‘Perfect’ in the in the car. Blaine may not be old enough to drive, but Kurt has recently received his license. The times when Burt allowed his son to borrow the car became another escape. Eventually Kurt bought his own car with the money he saved up from working in his father’s tire store. Too afraid to do what Blaine would have liked to, they loved the freedom. 

The sentiment of remembering kept Blaine’s spirits high as the crowded bus rumble on. While he did not say it that day, Blaine knew what enticed Kurt—manly hair sprouting on his chest. Since it started to sprout shaving become part of his morning ritual. He wished he had been blessed with a virtually hairless body like Kurt, but the dear boy liked it and now Blaine found himself enjoying the benefits.

Old, dried lips smiled an elderly man’s mind shifted back to his original thought. A sudden bump rocked the bus and jostled those standing in the aisle. Younger eyes closed and opened them again bringing Blaine thoughts together. Someone new sat beside him, the kids had gotten off somewhere and he needed to pee. Looking out the window, he recognized neighbourhood buildings among the stone landscape of the huge city. The florist came into view and then a coffee shop. Getting flowers crossed his mind, but the last time he did that they broke up. No, he did not want to think of that, but he needed to stop there to relieve his desperation.

The bus stopped at the end of the next block. Hauling his shoulder bag down the steps Blaine looked at New York at its best—people everywhere. Odd odours reminded him of New York at its worst and block on block of huge buildings hid the sky. Feeling like a dwarf, his eyes scanned the skyline as water dripped on his face. If dreams do come true after all one day he would live here close to a park

After taking care of a dire need, Blaine settled in to wait. It would be time for Skyping soon and he knew Kurt would be home. He planned to arrive a quarter hour early, but for now he sat in a coffee shop around the corner out of the way. Kurt would be logging on ahead of time as usual, but this reunion would be special. The look on that charming face would be priceless. 

Waiting as long as he could, Blaine finally got up. Dropping his half-finished coffee at the counter, he tipped the barista and told her she could dump it. With butterflies fluttering in his stomach, he turned toward the door and ten more minutes and he would be in Kurt’s loving arms. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the key Kurt had sent him with the toy, he bounced up and down on his feet, smiling.

Time flashed by and an eager teen stood before the big sliding door to the loft. Pausing, he placed a hand on the wall and closed his eyes and drew in a few short breaths. Fear gripped him. What if . . . no. If Burt told the truth, Kurt would be happy to see him. Doubts? Why did he have all these doubts? Kurt had agreed to marry him. There had been no trap. He wanted this. He needed this. They both needed this.

Swallowing as he drew in a deep breath, his shoulders fell as he breathed out. Pushing the key into the lock he turned it and heard a solid click. Grinning to himself, Blaine grabbed the handle and hauled the door to the right and the ecliptic sights of the loft assaulted his eyes. Hesitating for a second, It felt like coming home and then he stepped in and abruptly stopped. No one? Then he heard running water and noticed movement behind the curtain patrician for Kurt’s room.

In a few short strides, his hand reached up to fabric and tugged it. Grinning from ear to ear, the surprise would be complete, but Blaine’s face fell. Before him stood a slender man in his late twenties with super short red hair pulling on a pair of tight and very revealing white underwear. The man half turned toward him, revealing a hard eight pack and firm chest.

Stunned, Blaine just stood there as his heart rocketed to the floor and a tear glistened in the corner of his eye. Heat built up under his skin as emotions took over. Turning on his heels, he snatched up his bag making a quick retreat. The strange young man called after the departing intruder.

At the same moment, Kurt stepped through the bathroom door wearing a towel loosely about his hip with water dripped from his hair and down his torso. A high-pitched astonished voice called out, “Blaine?”


	27. Idiot

“Blaine!” Santana’s voice spiked high.

The back of his travel bag skipped off the floor as the teen with the gelled down hair stomped closer. Her sudden appearance stunned him into a slower pace, leaving his mind momentarily numb. All he could think about involved naughty chats aided by a stick of rubber and now this? His life fell in around him―again. Now, he just wanted to get out of New York. No, he would not allow those dark thoughts to take him over as they once had. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Swearing under his breath, Blaine barely recognized the feisty brunette blocked the top of the stairs. The cotton shopping bags hung down from her hands filled with vegetables, bread and other things. The long beige coat she wore hung open to one side, revealing a black paint suite and fabulous stark red high heels. With his vision blurred by his tears, his face twisted up toward the woman blocking his path. Santana had changed little including the stern look on her face. It could bring a car to a stop.

“Woo,” Santana held up a hand, even as the sound of heated words came from the loft. She recognized the voices and suddenly smiled with understanding.

Growling under his breath, Blaine took a step to his right in an attempt to get around the woman.

Santana stepped out in front of him. “Hey little man, slow down.”

“Fuck off, Santana!” Blaine snarled at her as he went to side step around her.

A shrill and high-pitched voice called out after him. “Blaine?”

The blunt interruption broke the sudden tension and Santana’s deadly stares shifted from Blaine to Kurt. Her eyes narrowed as if to say, ‘you’re asking for it boy’.

The tone and the sound of Kurt’s voice made Blaine falter. His heart fluttered forcing him to glance over his shoulder. His fiancé, maybe ex-fiancé, stood halfway into the hall holding a towel about his waist with one hand with beading water rolled down his skin. His expression confusion on his face tugged at Blaine’s sentiments.

Someone called Kurt’s name from inside the loft. Budding compassion boiled over into rage, Blaine yelled own the hall, “What the fuck, Kurt!”

The face of a mostly naked man scrunched up. Taking a step back Kurt stared at Blaine with wide, disbelieving eyes and then he suddenly looked to his left. Someone jabbered at him from inside the loft.

“―could he . . . what?” the tall and slim fellow called back. Stepping out into the hall, he wore woman’s underwear pulled up tight with splotches of makeup dotted his rounded jaw up to his cheeks.

The sight caused Blaine to blink. Now that he got a better look, the interloper did not look athletic. Yes, he had definition, but he also looked strangely famine. A small patch of hair rose up his stomach from the waistband only to vanish just below his chest. An uneven make up base caked on to his cheeks, covering most of the shadows of a dark, shaven beard.

Santana started to laugh.

“What!?” Blaine growled at her.

“Calm down loverboy.” The woman pointed at the shorter man with anger simmered in her dark eyes.

“Jesus, Santana, how long have you known this―” A firm finger and a sharp nail pressed into his chest cut Blaine off.

“Look here short stuff, get your head out of your ass―” Santana grabbed Blaine’s chin, she pulled his face around.

Brows crawling down to the bridge of his nose, Blaine resisted until he noted a rare glimmer in Santana’s eyes—compassion.

“Do you really think Kurt would sleep with that?” She waved her other hand up and down as if to say, ‘look at him’. “He’s a bloody drag queen for god’s sake?”

“Female impersonator, thank you?” the tall fellow objected as he glided away from Kurt. He eyed the irate and adorably cute young man up and down.

“God damn it, he’s―” Blaine pointed at the tall, wiry fellow with narrow hard eyes. Taking a step back, he pulled his chin free and stepped Santana only to stop.

“Blaine, stop that right now!” Kurt yelled.

Stunned, Blaine turned to see his fiancé standing there with a knowing smile on his face and his hands on his hips. Soft blue eyes locked with hazel as water ran down his legs from under the towel to pool at his feet.

Blaine’s anger rose once more. “Just move it, Santana.”

“Oh, you got it bad, my little gnome.” Pressing her hand flat into Blaine chest pushing him into the wall. “Let me explain this to you, hot and over reacting. Little Ms. Messy Tuck over there is not playing with your pointy nosed and often annoying fiancé. But, by the look in on ‘its’ face, I would think you’re more his style.”

“Hey―” The scantily dressed drag queen chirped and then his eyes seductively narrowed, “He’s tak . . . yeah . . . he’s a nice, little package.”

Redness streaked up Blaine’s cheeks.

Taking three steps Kurt looked up at the tall man with a serious glare in his eyes. “Hands off slut. He’s mine.

“It looks like you two are on the skids.” The towering fellow shot back with a twisted smile. “I call dibs,”

“What the hell?” Blaine whispered to himself as he glanced back at Santana and then back at Kurt.

“There’s no hell, Blaine, but what is in here.” Santana tapped him lightly on the chest.

Shoulders slumping Blaine suddenly deflated and his head fell to his chest. Letting go of his travel bag it fell to the floor with a thud. Breathing in deeply, he listened to Santana chuckle as she sauntered past him. Patting him on the arm, her heels dug into the floor matched the beating of Blaine’s heart. Christ, what an idiot?

One eyebrow going up, the drag queen strode over to Blaine offering a hand, “Miss Ya Rang, pleasure to meet you, cutie pie.”

Hazel eyes went to Kurt, who still stood there in a puddle holding a towel about his waist with one hand. Heaving a sigh, he gave Kurt that ‘I’m so stupid’ look.

Eyes switching back and forth from Blaine to Kurt, the drag queen gracefully waved a hand in front of Blaine’s sad face. “Forget about high pitched Pinocchio, over there.”

Blinking, Blaine’s rolled up toward the distraction and then his eyes and face hardened.

“Hey, look at it this way, short and cute.” The taller man pursed his lips. “We’re going to paint the town pink tonight, you and I.”

Hazel darted to blue, Blaine could barely believe this.

“Karl, why don’t you go finish doing yourself up.” Santana yelled from the loft door, patting her hand on her thigh as if she called a dog. “Give the boys a few minutes to break up again and then you can pounce.”

Laying two fingers on Blaine’s cheek, Karl smiled and blew him an air kiss. Swiveling on one heel, he pointed a crooked finger at Kurt and announced, “Dump him and he’s mine.”

“Not on your life,” Kurt shot back with an edge to his voice. Strolling past his tall friend he held out one hand to Blaine while protecting his privacy with the other.

Holding Kurt’s gaze for a little while, Blaine suddenly looked down to the floor. Ashamed barely described how he felt. A heavy breath, pushed his chest out and then he crouched down beside his bag, pressing his hands into his face.

Kneeling beside his distraught boyfriend, Kurt’s left hand brushed against his right, their fingers automatically interlaced. Leaning in, he gently kissed Blaine on the cheek and then asked in a tender voice, “What are you doing here?”

Meeting those eyes again, Blaine rested his head against Kurt’s nude, damp shoulder. The smell of fresh soap made Blaine remember what he missed. When he spoke, his voice held a mixture of discomfort and joy. “I thought I would surprise you, but I guess I’m the one who got surprised.”

Squeezing the hand, he held, Kurt pulled Blaine to his feet and into a loving embrace. Lips met for a brief second and then he instructed, “Pick up your bag.”

Sighing, Blaine grasped the handles, he glanced at his lover feeling utterly mortified.

Leading Blaine toward in to the loft’s threshold, Kurt whispered, “That must have been a shock.”

“I thought―” Blaine bowed his head.

“I know what you thought.” Kurt quietly stated as he passed through the door. Suddenly stopping, he wrapped his arms about his lover and stared into those honey-brown orbs. Holding the gaze for a moment he soundly kissed Blaine before whispering, “I have eyes for only one person.”

“Nice package Hummel,” Karl yelled from the kitchen where he leaned against the counter facing the lovers. “Slight curve and . . . long.”

“Jesus Kurt, cover yourself!” Santana called out about the same moment as Karl. Making a face she turned away with a hand over his eyes. “And take it somewhere else.”

Flushing deep red, Kurt looked down to find the towel had slipped away from his hips, revealing the white skin from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Grasping the towel before he gave everything away, Blaine helped by pushing his lover into Rachel’s side of the loft. Fabric flew in all directions and Kart let out a wolf howl.

“Bloody hell,” Kurt moaned with bright red burned his face.

Blaine’s brows pressed together and then he smirked. Pulling the drapes to ensure their privacy, he turned to face the man he loved. Smiling to beat the band, he flung himself at Kurt drawing him into a hard hug followed by a gentle kiss. Shocked, Kurt struggled for a few seconds and then fell into Blaine as if no one else lived. Tongues lashing and lips moving ever so slightly they held each other until they had to come up for air. Panting. Kurt leaned his head against Blaine and started to laugh.

Pulling his head back ever so slightly, Blaine looked indignant. “What?”

Lips spreading wide, Kurt shook his head. “How I love you, my green-eyed Warbler.”

Eyes moving right and left, Blaine’s shoulders drooped. “Idiot is more like it.”

“I think it's sweet.” Kurt kissed his lovely partner.

Leaning against his boyfriend, Blaine slowly breathed out. “I thought it was Adam.”

Pushing Blaine back so he could stare him in the face, Kurt frowned. Then, with a pleading smile, he said, “Adam has not said two words to me since I told him we were getting married.”

“I feel so stupid.”

“If I had shown up at your door and found a nearly naked man in your bedroom what do you think I would have done?”

“Freak.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you, Kurt Hummel.”

“Soon to be Hummel-Anderson or Anderson-Hummel or Guttenberg.”

“Guttenberg?”

“We both change our names.”

Folding his arms about his fiancé and best friend, Blaine stared into Kurt’s eyes only to become lost in the sparkling waves filled with admiration and love. Flesh pressed up against his pants as he slowly leaned in and set his lips to Kurt’s. With tender care they kissed and held each other, driving his embarrassment and jealously away. The man he held exuded so much affection it could have bowled Blaine over. How could he have doubted?

Moments passed, and the motions became more aggravated as hands joined in. Fingers found a sensitive spot behind the ear or dug down into the back of the pants to find soft hair. A towel slid down to the floor as Kurt became more involved and engaged. Pulling on Blaine’s coat, Kurt removed it in short order and then his hands worked their way up under a sweater finding a nipple. Blaine’s head fell back with a soft moan. He needed this. They both did. Rubber and fantasies did not make up for the real thing.

“Who left the door open?” Rachel’s voice called out.

Santana chuckled.

Barely a second later, curtain loops scrapped on a metal rod and then voice rising several octaves ruined everything. “Kurt! Blaine?”

The feisty Hispanic woman burst into hilarious laughing.

Hands over her eyes, Rachel stamped her feet as she spun around. “Kurt! Put something . . . on.”

Blushed bright red Kurt used Blaine as a shield, he bent down and grabbed the towel. Gripping the curtain Blaine pulled it over himself to protect Kurt’s privacy. Beyond the curtain, Rachel’s eyes fluttered, and her cheeks flashed beat red. Behind her, Santana leaned against the counters, laughing so hard she had trouble standing.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Rachel snarled at her roommate.

Wrapping the towel about his midsection, Kurt continued to use Blaine as a shield. Raised colour in his cheeks deepened increase of his pulse. Placing his head on Blaine’s shoulder, he stared at his best gal pal. One day they would laugh about this, but at the moment Kurt felt horrified.

Pushing off the counter, Santana sauntered over to Rachel still laughing. Pointing at Blaine hiding behind the curtains she said, “Lover boy here showed up by surprise and found Karl naked in Kurt’s bed.”

“Karl?” Rachel looked confused.

Poking his head out of the other bedroom area, his face partially covered with makeup, Karl announced, “Hi Rachie and . . . ewwwww . . . I wasn’t in needle nose with the big dick’s bed.”

Hands covering her face, Rachel stood there shaking her head.

Rolling his eyes, Karl stated, “Jesus honey, you know how hard it was for me to keep my mouth shut. I waited for the floor show to start, but then this face can’t wait for Hummel to find his penis pump.”

“Karl?” Rachel screeched dropping her hands.

Bursting out laughing again, Santana doubled over.

“Oh, darling, you need singing lesson.” Karl winks as he padded some powder onto his face. “If I was holding on to the short, cute one, well . . . I was just wasting time until the dirty talk began.”

“Don’t stand there with your jaw hanging to the floor, Queenie,” Rachel barked at Karl. “Get Kurt his bathrobe and then finish putting your face on.”

Santana used the bookshelf to steady herself as she laughed harder.

Making a face Karl growled, “Bitch.”

“And . . . don’t you . . . forget it.” Santana wiggled a finger at Karl between her laughing fits.

“Karl?” Rachel held her hand open wide.

“Yes, ma’am,” Karl back through the curtains into Kurt’s area. “Let me see, where is it? Not in here . . . oh . . . Kurt, you naughty boy, is Blaine’s really that thick. . . tasty.”

“Karl!” Rachel yelled as he turned away from her almost naked roommate only to find the other one laughing.

Two boys wildly blushed and the thought Karl had found his Blaine toy? Kurt’s head fell onto Blaine’s shoulder who carefully, carefully wrapped his arms about his fiancé. Blaine whispered, “What a gong show.”

“It would be funny if I wasn’t so embarrassed.” The words barely escaped Kurt’s lips.

“The two of us.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

‘Oh, how sickening soap operaish,” Karl commented, holding colourful bathrobe through the curtain. “Just another episode of As The Sphincter Puckers.”

“Give that to me,” Rachel snatched the robe from Karl. Four stomping feet later, she held it out to Kurt demanded, “Put his one and get out of my bedroom.”

With Blaine still blocking the view, Kurt slipped the robe on and visibly relaxed. The young man with gelled down hair, kissed his love on the temple and then took his hand leading him from the partitioned room. As he passed, Rachel grabbed Blaine and drew him into a hug. The two lovers did not let go of their hands.

“Can I get into on that?” Karl moved his body back and forth as if he tried to get a better look.

“No!” three people yelled at once.

“Bitches.” Karl chided.

“It’s good to see you Blaine,” Rachel cooed and kissed Blaine on the cheek. “Can someone tell me what the hell’s going on here?”

Her face erupting into a huge grin, Santana began her version of the sorted tale. Rachel tried not to show her amusement, but she cracked when she threw her arms about Blaine again. Smiling into his shoulder, her eyes went to Kurt, who held Blaine’s right hand. Mischief glistened in her big eyes.

“Does this mean you’re not breaking up?” Karl deep voice interrupted.

Kurt yelled back, “No!”

“Damn,” Karl pouted. “I wanted to take cutie pie out and show him what New York is really like.”

“You can’t have him,” Kurt growled clutching onto his love’s arm. “I’m greedy and he’s all mine.”

“Karl, go get your face on!” Rachel barked at the tall drag queen. “You look horrid.”

“Can’t a girl have any fun?” Karl winked at Blaine. “If you ever tire of Hummel’s saggy ass, give me a call.”

“Saggy ass?” Kurt objected.

Blaine swung his hand in Kurt’s back bouncing them off those firm cheeks. “Lovely ass,”

Stepping toward the partially adorned queen, Santana pushed him toward the curtains of Kurt’s little area. Pushing Karl back with an extended hand she announced, “Now, let auntie Santana show you how to do your makeup.”

Karl’s lips curled down, and he made a hysterical face. “Bitch.”

“Damn right and these are real,” Santana poked a finger into her chest and then patted the female panties covering Karl’s tucked bits.

Waving his arms about, Karl made all sorts of noises as Santana bickered with him.

Shaking his head, Blaine glanced at Kurt and could not help but laugh. A second later, Rachel and his lover joined in. Considering how this all started, Blaine’s heart felt light even though he kicked himself for allowing his emotions to get the best of him. Once again weakness had touched him. Being apart from Kurt had taught him what real love could cost and now that he had him again, he did not want to let that go.

When it all settled down the three of them strolled toward the kitchen. His nakedness covered, Kurt looked more at ease as he leaned closer to his boyfriend. Feeling the warmth of a familiar body close to his caused motion between Blaine’s legs. Gods, he wanted to just throw Kurt down and have his way with him. However, for now, he just turned and drew Kurt into a loving hug.

“I’m so sorry,” Blaine whispered to Kurt.

Smiling against Blaine’s neck, Kurt quietly replied, “Your jealousy was kind of sexy.”

Cheeks puffing out, Blaine questioned, “Sexy? It was more like a mini-heart attach.”

“I’ll have plans for your heart.”

“Oh?”

“I think you can feel it.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Boys?” Rachel suddenly cut in. Turning about, she looked and sounded embarrassed.

Tugging on Blaine, Kurt pulled him over to the living area. Rachel flowed with them. Kurt turned and said to them, “Can we have a little privacy, please?”

“Out there?” Santana called from where she battled with a drag queen.

Karl injected, “Can I watch.”

Santana growled from behind the curtains. “Give them a moment to get it over with.”

“I don’t have my phone,” Karl complained.

Santana shot back. “Oh, shut up and sit still.”

“Use my space,” Rachel conceded with a roll of her eyes. “Just don’t ruin my new sheets.”

“Thanks Rachel.” Blaine gave her a fond look.

Sort of smiling, Rachel flopped onto the couch with a look on her face Blaine found hard to describe.

Chuckling Santana threw the curtains to one side, allowing her escape. Wheeling around and stepping into the kitchen, she headed to the coffee. “I’m going to need this if I have to make Karl look like a woman.”

“Cow!” Karl snarled.

“Well, moo to you too.” Santana reached for the cupboard and pulled out a mug.

Makeup covering his face, Karl poked his head out from behind the curtain, “Santana, be a darling and get my phone from my coat while you're feeding that maw of yours.”

“No, you’re not going to film them,” the Latino woman shot back.

Rachel looked annoyed as her eyes followed her roommate before shifting to Karl. She demanded, “Just shut your mouth and get dressed, you old queer. We said you could use our place to get ready, not live here.”

“Who are you calling old?” Huffing, Karl vanished behind a flourish of hanging cloth.

Changing direction, Kurt hauled Blaine back toward Rachel’s bed, pulling the curtains closed behind him. Alone, as much as the fabric would allow, he looked suddenly relieved as he took his lover in his arms. Holding him tight, Kurt kissed Blaine as only he could and in response Blaine pressed into Kurt sensing the heat and wanting more. The strain of separation and the anxiety of arriving at the loft left him. Only Kurt remained to love and anchor him. The man he wished to live the rest of his life with filled his heart and soul.

“I don’t hear you talking in there,” Rachel chimed in. Her voice sounded a bit distant, as if she stood in the kitchen.

“Give them a break. He hasn’t even whipped the sweet, curly headed man’s thing out yet.” Karl retorted followed by a loud purring growl.

“Take your time boys.” Santana called out as she glanced at her watch.

Another round of bickering erupted, but Blaine ignored it. Rolling his head, he smiled as he tried not to laugh. “It never changes.”

“Yeah,” Kurt shot back and then he leaned into Blaine with a wide grin. In a softer tone, he said, “You should have told me you were coming. I could have shooed them off.”

“It’s alright Kurt,” Blaine nuzzled closer because Kurt smelt and felt so good. “I’ll tell the tale later, but for now I just want to see you smile.”

“And other things?” Karl smirked.

“Will you leave them alone,” Rachel chided.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Karl argued. “I only want to peek.”

“Back, you viper,” Rachel snarled.

“And park your ass in the at stool if you don’t want to look like Julia Caustus.” Santana said at the same time as her roommate.

Karl sneered, “Bovine.”

Chuckling, Blaine pressed his lips against Kurt’s once more increasing the pressure down below. Rachel and Santana might understand, but Karl, Blaine did not know. The way he leered at him sent a quake up his spin leaving him with a feeling of being today’s entree.

Pulling his head back, Kurt looked mischievously happy. Whether intentional or not, he announced, “I’m starting a band.”

“What? Wow?” Hazel locked on blue making Blaine feel drunk.

“That’s one of the reasons Karl is in my bedroom, slipping on a bra.” Kurt smiled as he hugged Blaine.

Karl called across the distance. “That tit-sling to you.”

“Will you hurry up, Karl,” Rachel responded. “I still have to get changed and I can’t do it with those two making out on my bed.”

Kurt shot back. “We’re not on your bed.”

Blaine quietly laughed.

“Give them time, Rachie.” Karl’s sounded strained. “Santana, dear, could you be a good bitch and came back here and give a queen a hand. Don’t forget my phone.”

A few choice words in Spanish followed and then heavy footsteps from the kitchen.

Snorting, Kurt grinned at Blaine. “Karl’s from NYADA. I met him through Rachel.”

“Is she taking on a new leaf and finally channeling her inner diva.” Blaine ran a finger down Kurt’s cheek and neck.

“She’s always been a diva.” Karl’s voice carried over Karl’s who had trouble with something.

“Ha ha.” Everyone expected Rachel to respond.

Ignoring the comments, Blaine leaned into Kurt and kissed him again. “Your own band. I wish I would be here to help.”

“I wasn’t expecting you for another couple of weeks. I wanted to have it set up by then.” Kurt pecked Blaine’s cheek and smiled. “I’ve missed singing with you.”

Pushing Kurt down onto the bed and young man landed with a groan. Before he could object, fingers pressed against his lips as Blaine swung his hips over his wide-eyed lover. Crawling up over his leg’s lyrics rolled from his tongue.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lS9j4cWEeiU – you have to image Blaine is singing this. I thought this would be a fun and besides, I love this style of music. Swing and Big Band is the best.)

_Tarzan and Jane were swingin' on a vine_  
_Candyman, candyman_  
_Sippin' from a bottle of vodka double wine_  
_Sweet sugar candyman_

Hey yeah

Wiggling his hips, across Kurt’s thighs the look of mischief on Blaine’s face grew in intensity. Rolling his shoulder back his wrist twisted around as he pointed at the man beneath him. His voice rose in strength.

_I met him out for dinner on a Friday night_  
_He really got me working up an appetite_  
_He had tattoos up and down his arms_  
_There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm_

“What the hell are you doing in there?” Rachel yelled from the other side of the cloth barrier.

“Sh-h-h-h-h, Rachel,” Karl called back.

Ignoring the peanut gallery, Blaine preformed for his private audience. Pressing his buttock down upon Kurt’s pelvis as he gave the man he adored. A sly look crossed his Blaine’s face as he popped his pants button revealing a thick tuft of dark hair instead of underwear. Kurt’s eyes went wide, and Blaine felt something shift beneath him.

_He's a one stop shop, makes my panties drop_

_He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated candyman_  
_Sweet sugar candyman_

_He's a one stop shop, makes my panties drop_  
_Sweet sugar candyman_

“God’s do we have to put up with that . . . again!” Santana complained in a raised tone.

_He's a one stop shop, makes my ugh pop_  
_Sweet sugar candyman_

_He's a one stop, get it while it's hot, baby don't stop_  
_Sweet sugar_

Leaning over Kurt, who stared up with the most amazing look on his face, Blaine tugged at his zipper until the tight fabric would allow more.

_He's got those lips like sugarcane_  
_Good things come for boys who wait_  
_He's a one stop shop with a real big ugh_  
_He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated candyman_  
_candyman_  
_candyman_  
_candyman_  
_candyman_

Throwing himself at Kurt their lips locked. Pulling Blaine down on him, Kurt grunted and groaned into his lover’s mouth. Rolling off to the side the two men enthusiasm grew along with certain endowments.

“Listen!” Karl exclaimed, “Where’s that damned phone . . . they’re really getting into it.”

“Jesus,” Santana moaned.

Laughing in to Blaine’s mouth, Kurt pulled himself free and yelled, “He’s apologizing.”

“Well apologize on your own time,” Santana shot back as she stomped around the living room rolling her head.

“And in your own bed,” Rachel groused.

“Again, we’re not in your bed,” Kurt shouted back.

Blaine injected, “Just on top of it.”

Poking his head between the curtains, Karl grinned from ear to ear. “It’s always the short ones with the nice, succulent asses who have the greatest voices.”

Rachel screamed. “Karl!”

Heat rose in Blaine’s cheeks as he lay there with his fiancé on beside him with his shirt pulled up revealing his stomach. Throwing a pillow, Karl jumped back as it hit the curtain and slid to the floor with a soft thud.


	28. Thrilled

Playfully pulling out Blaine heavily breathed as he stared his adorable fiancé. Pearly white skin of his toned calves rested upon naturally tanned shoulders, providing Blaine with a view he adored so much. The torso laid out before him captivated the spirit. He missed it and the way goose bumps which lifted the skin when a cool puff of air crossed over it. The special friend Kurt had sent him did not match up to the hours they had just spent doing one of their favourite activities.

Friday night out with Rachel, Santana and an outrageously flirty Karl proved outrageously fun. The midnight hours came and went with the foursome rolling in the door four hours later. Saturday daytime proved sexually frustrating with Karl passed out on the couch and the girls close by. Karl, finally, left about one and the two boys pleaded for some privacy. The final deal included a group dinner and then some alone time.

The sheets bunched up behind Blaine as he shuffled back on the bed. Kissing the bottom of each foot, he gently lowered Kurt’s legs into a more comfortable the position. Sweat glistened on his hairy chest in the dim light passing through a crack in the curtain. Gazing up at the man he loved, nimble fingers absently toyed with Blaine’s messy hair and sexy ears. It started out rough and primal, but as the sensations grew it turned into something calm, enduring and filled with deep pleasure. Kurt played Blaine bringing him to knew heights and aggravating lows to prevent premature issues.

Kneeling between firm thighs, Blaine tenderly massaged them as he eased Kurt down from the heights of ecstasy. His partner lay there with his eyes closed softly panting. Suddenly blue eyes locked with hazel and he warmly smiled. Holding hands as they walked down the path of life together, both recognized the healing process moved along.

“That was . . . great,” Kurt moaned as his head sank into the pillow as fingers dragged down the lover’s glistening chest.

Head shifting to the right, Blaine’s eyes overflowed with love. “You made a perfectly scrumptious meal, Mr. Hummel.”

“And your the best desert, soon to be Mr. Hummel-Anderson.”

“And your cream filling.”

“I think you filled me up just nicely.”

Leaning in for a kiss, Blaine ran his fingers through the long locks of hair. “Double dipped doughnuts. Yummy.”

“Being apart certainly makes for a spectacular orgasm.” Kurt ran a finger down Blaine side and the man joyous convulsed. He loved spending hours pleasuring his boyfriend in this manner.

“Yes.” Blaine fell silent, but his gaze did not leave his wonderful lover. Fingers touched his cheek and he leaned into them. “I don’t like being apart. I just want you all to myself.”

“Greedy so-in-so.”

“When it comes to you and your perfect pickle . . . oh, yeah.”

“You got your wish.” Kurt showed Blaine the ring he gave him.

Taking that finger in his mouth, Blaine’s lips circled the ring as his tongue raked up the digit. A guttural groan escaped Kurt smiling lips and the two men kissed for a few minutes and then comfortably cuddled up.

Running a finger down Blaine’s chest, Kurt whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Blaine quietly gushed.

“I can’t wait until we can do this all day.”

“When will Rachel and Santana get back?”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed, and he stretched to see the alarm clock.

Blaine kissed Kurt’s forehead. “Why so glum?”

Pushing himself up on one elbow stared into the fascinating amber-brown eyes. “It’s only one weekend.”

Placing a hand lightly on his lover’s chest, Blaine said with a sigh, “Yes, but I’ll be back.”

“Yeah, but how long.”

“Every three weeks.”

“What?”

“Oh, right, I did not tell you. Your parents, my mom and even Cooper are flying me out every three weeks.”

“Wow!” Sitting up straight, Kurt beamed and then his face fell. “We’ll have to pay them back.”

Chuckling, Blaine softly said responded, “Your dad said it was an investment, but my mom called it a loan.”

Dreamy eyed, Kurt whispered, “I think I can hold out for three weeks . . . maybe.”

Picking up Kurt’s hand and kissing the ring, Blaine questioned, “Maybe?”

“Might need a toy.” Kurt winked with an evil smile. He slipped a hand under Blaine’s chin and gently lifted it. “You’re talented, charming and so damned cute.”

Blaine beamed, “And you’re so handsome.”

“Of course I am?” Kurt patted his cheek.

Smiling, Blaine pulled Kurt in close and passionately kissed him. Working his way down the Kurt’s arm, Blaine found the finger with a ring on it. Looking up, he smiled. “Kurt, your spirit soars like an eagle on the wind demanding freedom and so much more. To some this ring might represent ownership, to me it means freedom. Freedom to love. Freedom to express ourselves. Freedom to feel bad or good. Freedom to enjoy our lives together. Kurt, to me, you will never be property only love.”

Kissing the ring, Blaine laid his head against Kurt’s chest and softly started to sing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_SGA46QxP4 Not alone –written and sung by Darren Criss)

_I've been alone_  
_Surrounded by darkness_  
_I've seen how heartless_  
_The world can be_

_I've seen you crying_  
_You felt like it's hopeless_  
_I'll always do my best_  
_To make you see_

Blaine pulled Kurt closer so that his head rested against his chest. A soft hand fell on his arm.

_Baby, you're not alone_  
_'Cause you're here with me_  
_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_  
_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_  
_And you know it's true_  
_It don't matter what'll come to be_  
_Our love is all we need to make it through..._

_Now I know it ain't easy_  
_But it ain't hard trying_  
_Everytime I see you smiling_  
_And I feel you so close to me..._  
_And you tell me:_

Running his fingers up Kurt’s cheek, they danced around the ear and up into strands of hair. There, Blaine happily played as he sang on.

_Baby, you're not alone_  
_'Cause you're here with me_  
_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_  
_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_  
_And you know it's true_  
_It don't matter what'll come to be_  
_Our love is all we need to make it through..._

_I still have trouble_  
_I trip and stumble_  
_Trying to make sense of things sometimes..._

Craning his neck so he can see Blaine better, Kurt shifted his body. All the while Blaine hung on to him and sang with deep compassion. Lips spreading wide, Kurt understood the meaning of his song.

_I look for reasons_  
_But I don't need 'em_  
_All I need is to look in your eyes_  
_And I realize..._

_Baby, I'm not alone_  
_'Cause you're here with me_  
_And nothing's ever gonna take us down_  
_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_  
_And you know it's true_  
_It don't matter what'll come to be_  
_Our love is all we need to make it through..._

_Oh, 'cause you're here with me_  
_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_  
_Cause nothing, nothing, nothing_  
_Can keep me from lovin' you_  
_And you know it's true_  
_It don't matter what'll come to be_  
_You know our love is all we need_

_Our love is all we need_  
_To make it through..._

Blaine’s heart rested in his throat when the lyrics died away bringing silence. The words had come from so deep, he could barely believe it himself. One night, in the depths of his gloom, they woke him and compelled him to write them down. When Blaine finally rolled over, he hugged his pillow feeling the best he had in days. Now, he hugged the real thing and he never wanted to go back.

“That was . . . beautiful?” The words barely escaped Kurt’s mouth. A hand came to rest on his lover’s shoulder where the finger massaged his back.

Bashfully, Blaine rested his forehead against Kurt’s. “From me to you.”

Throwing his hands about the man he loved, Kurt kissed him. Afterward his brow came to rest against Blaine’s as their noses softly touched each other.

Eyes twinkling bright, Blaine smiled at the man he loved. “I never want to leave this bed.”

Playfully tracing his fingers across Blaine’s side Kurt smiled when his lover twitched. “I’ll have you at the airport in time, but until then you can cuddle up with me all you want because I am enjoying this Mr. Blaine Anderson. As I said to my dad the day you proposed, you make me feel safe.”

Enveloping Kurt’s legs with his, Blaine snuggled as close as he could with head pressed against Kurt’s shoulder as he absently ran a finger over a nipple. Comfortable in one another’s arms the drifted off into the pleasant land of shared dreams.

Sometime later, exactly how long Blaine did not know, the door to the loft slid open with a trembling creak. Heavy footfalls and the motion of a sliding door crashing shut roused him. Someone bumped into something with a soft exclamation and then a light flashed on. Filtered by the curtains, Blaine squinted and then looked to his right where Kurt remained coiled around him like a comfortable blanket. Purring like a cat the handsome young man looked at peace.

Someone whispered out in the living room and another replied. It could only be two people and with that he snuggled up to his love and closed his eyes and allowed his dreams to take him. It had barely moved passed the first short scene when he started because someone knocked a piece of furniture forcing it to noisily skid across the wooden floor. The other person giggled and then it sounded as if something heavy landed on the coffee table.

Opening his eyes just a slit Blaine squinted at the dim passing through the drapes. On the other side of the cloth barrier he heard glasses rattling against each other followed by a low curse and a shushing sound. Kurt jerked without waking and then snuggled closer with a grunt before the soft purring returned.

The sudden touch of wet lips against Blaine’s neck made the curly headed man smile. Pressing his mouth against Kurt’s arm wrapped over his body, Blaine arched his head up and rolled over. His soon-to-be husband quietly moaned as a tongue found an ear. Skilled fingers gently traced a line down Blaine’s pelvis where they toyed with a sleepy man’s balls causing arousal. Shifting under the weight gently pushed on him, Blaine’s lips sought Kurt’s finding stubble. Many small kissed later, they found home plate. Down below the border something grew in girth as Blaine’s hands searched the pleasant body beside him with soft tickles. Round three?

Burying his head into Blaine’s shoulder, Kurt snickered and kicked at the sheets. Rolling up on to the man he loved he stared at those hazel eyes for a few seconds and then softly said, “You’re so beautiful.”

Smashing his lips into Kurt, Blaine enveloped him in his arms tussling him to one side. Lying side by side and nose to nose, he stared at the man he loved as his admiration spread through his chest. Skin against skin with erections touching, Blaine would rather be nowhere else. Those arms, that body and especially those eyes took him to places he hand only dreamed about a few months ago. A wet tongue on his nose made Blaine smile. Sticking his out, he smiled just before their flesh met. Kurt let out a delightful moan.

Something knocked together in the other room and someone hushed another followed by giggling. The both of them heard a woman asking, “You think they’re up?”

“Sounds . . . like it.” An accented voice softly replied.

Footfalls followed and then the curtain suddenly pulled back and Santana’s face popped in.

Shocked, Blaine pulled the top sheet up over his naked form and that of his lover. While the lower parts of his body remained hidden the scant fabric left little to the imagination.

“Santana!” Rachel called from elsewhere in the loft. Her tone sounded a bit slurred.

Santana stupidly giggled. “Yup, they’re . . . up alright?”

“Santana!” Kurt yelled at her as he grabbed for a pillow. Tossing it, the fluffy thing hit her in the stomach and slid to the floor.

“Kurt’s in an energetic mood.” Santana called back with a huge smile on her face. Pointing at she declared, “You could be in for it, Blaine.”

Pulling the covers over his head, Kurt muttered a few choice words before snarling, “Just leave.”

“He’s going to be a poop,” Santana moaned.

“Ewwwww.” Rachel responded.

Stepping back from the divider allowing the cloth fell to its normal position, Santana joked, “Not that dummy?”

Crawling about under the covers, Blaine moved the sheets, so he could see the man he loved. The look on Kurt’s face made him chuckle because those flushed cheeks and his breathing told the story. A hand came to rest on the chin of the man he loved and then Blaine smiled. The diffused light passing through the cotton played across gave Kurt a mysterious appearance.

“Hey Rachie,” Santana’s words slurred together.

“Don’t call me that,” Rachel retorted and then made a grunting sound as if he hit something.

Santana moaned. “Pickle tickle and the banana don’t want to play with us.”

A cork announcing there would be no peace. Moments later, Rachel pushed the curtains back flooding Kurt’s area with needless light. Kicking at the bed, she slurred her words. “Come on . . . up and at . . . him.”

Kurt growled, “Rachel?”

“That’s what he’s got in mind,” Santana chuckled over Kurt yelling at his gal pal.

“Come on, boys.” Rachel clicked the two glasses she held together. “Time to celebrate.”

Santana called from the living area, “I think the princess Hummel needs a little more time to finish up.”

“Do you mind?” Kurt objected as the deflation elsewhere killed the moment.

“It’s not as if we have not seen your lily white ass before,” the Latino woman yelled. Something landed on the coffee table with a thud.

“Santana, please!” Kurt shook his head and let out a puff of air.

“They’re drunk,” Blaine softly commented as he stared at the shadows of Kurt’s face. He looked so sexy.

Santana yelled. “No shit, curly tits.”

The noise of glass striking glass sounded nice when compared to the foot sticking the foot of the bed. “Come on boys, time to drink.”

Glancing at Kurt, Blaine gave him a ‘do we’ look and blue eyes rolled away in response. Beyond the threshold of Kurt’s territory, something moved followed by a thump and a curse.

“Stop that,” Rachel called out to someone. “And put that away. They have their own clothes.”

“I don’t want to see their little willies.” Santana shot back. It sounded like a piece of furniture moved. “Besides Kurt looks good in a dress.”

Eyebrows pulling together Blaine gave Kurt a look. His lover shook his head with a frown.

“Santana?” Rachel screeched followed by more thumping around in her sleeping area.

The curtains protecting Kurt and Blaine moved and one of Rachel’s dresses landed on the bed. Santana yelled, “Come on you sluts, time to party.”

Embarrassed, even angry, hazel eyes locked onto shaded blue. A hand reached out and touched Kurt’s naked chest where Blaine felt a shiver run up his lover’s body. Suddenly Kurt burst out laughing and piled into Blaine pulling the sheets with him. Lips surrounded a nipple and a tongue lashed. Blaine swallowed a groan just as Kurt pulled away.

“You’re a noisy one, Hummel,” Santana’s words slurred together.

Shocked, Kurt hauled the sheet up over him exposing Blaine down to the hip on one side. A chill suddenly ran up his thighs and over his butt causing goose pimples to rise.

“My,” Rachel purred, “Is that what I’ve been missing all these years.”

“Really NICE butt Anderson,” Santana blurted out with a snicker.

Mortified, Blaine dragged the thicker covers away from Kurt hauling them up to his chest. Heat rose in his cheeks.

“Will you two, please?” Kurt pleaded, holding the blanket up to his chin.

“Come one girlfriend, let’s leave the pussies alone.” Rolling her head, Santana snatched one of the glassed from Rachel and half downed it. “Don’t yell too loud when you . . . Hummel. You sound like a banshee.”

The curtains fluttered as Blaine gave Kurt an odd look. Snuggling closer, he looked into his lover’s eyes and smiled. In a soft tone Blaine said, “I guess I’ll sleep on the plane.”

Rolling his eyes Kurt pouted.

With a sigh Blaine suddenly kissed those extended lips. Throwing the covers back Blaine reached for a sweatshirt and dragged it over his head. The moment his fuzzy head poked thought, two hands playfully ruffled the mop of hair. Two men kissed and then Kurt rolled away searching for a sweater and something to pull over his naked lower half. Smiling, Blaine dug a pair of blue shorts out of his bag and hauled them on. Playfully flirting with each other, two lovers ignored the commentary from the front. Finally, the curtains flew apart and the barefoot lovers padded out to join the drunks.

Santana and Rachel sat in the chairs opposite the couch staring at the men. Santana looked disappointed and Rachel just grinned from ear to ear. Glassy eyes told one story and the two bottles of wine sitting on the table told the rest.

“Hey, good to see you.” Rachel lifted a half empty glass. Her eyes looked heavy.

Lowering the glass from her lips, Santana called out, “Made enough noise powder puff.”

Pulling on Blaine’s hand, Kurt tried to turn away, but his loving half tugged him close instead. Wet lips on the cheek placated the simmering Kurt. Both needed sleep and Blaine wanted one last memory to keep himself stimulated for the next three weeks.

“Santana?” Rachel pointed a finger.

Blaine softly growled. “We did nothing.”

“Why the fuck do we have to put up with this!” Kurt shook his head and tried to pull away from Blaine. The shorter man would not let go.

Santana stuck her tongue out and poured two glasses of sparkling red wine. With a flourish, she directed the guys to take a seat. “Well they do. They're like rutting pigs.”

Making the snorting noise of a pig, Kurt flopped down on the couch where blue met hazel. Kurt’s eyes had that gray hue to them which revealed his displeasure. Snuggling up while holding hands, neither of them wanted to let go of each other. It had been like this all weekend and with little precious time left they wanted to soak up as much as they could. Eventually Blaine leaned over and took one glass and handed it to Kurt before scooping up another. A youthful face grew angry and then Kurt took his glass and tilted it toward his partner. Glass touched with a soft clink.

Glaring at Santana, Rachel shifted to the boys looking slightly more relaxed, “You looking forward to nationals.”

“More like a little hide the sausage,” Santana downed her drink and pour more.

Swallowing, Kurt’s hand tightened about his lover’s and he firmly answered, “Yup, a good old, thrust up the caboose and a long high F.”

Rachel almost spat up her wine as she choked. Her eyes went wide followed by a deep red blush.

Feeling self-satisfied, Blaine like the feeling Kurt landed an unexpected direct hit. Sipping his wine, he tried to hold back a smirk. He loved it when his boyfriend got feisty.

“Err . . . umm . . . nationals?” Rachel tried to recover as her eyes shifted to Blaine.

Santana laughed and downed her drink.

“Thank you.” Kurt said to Rachel sounded relieved.

“Los Angeles,” Blaine warily smiled. “We got in on a technicality but―”

Topping herself up, Santana injected, “You mean Warbler cheating.”

Not looking so happy, Blaine deflected the comment. “LA is going to be fun.”

“I bet,” Rachel added. Her eyes looked red and heavy.

“Yeah, all those Hollywood tight asses for you to pinch.” Santana giggled.

Making a face, Blaine sounded disgusted, “Ewww . . . I would never pitch my brother’s ass.”

One eyebrow going up Kurt asked, “So where did you go to get so wasted?”

Needing the comfort, Blaine hugged Kurt’s arm. The warmth of his body drove the chill in the air away.

“We went to shake our titties. You should have come with us, but you were already. . . shaking your asses.” Santana’s head rested against the back of the chair as she slouched down.

“Santana,” Rachel objected. She reached out to hit the other woman, but miserably missed.

Giving Rachel a look, Santana rolled her eyes and leaned closer to the guys. Sniffing the air, she said, “Oh come off it big nose, you can smell the cherry lube out in the hall.”

Blaine and Kurt blushed.

“The important thing is my darlings are back together again,” Rachel raised her almost empty glass.

“Amen to that,” Santana followed suit. “No more whining and crying at midnight.”

Blaine gave Kurt a look and the other man shrugged.

“Come off it, twinklebutt? Just admit it. You were a mess even when you were with sugar poops.” Santana leaned forward, maybe just a little too far because she had to place a palm on the table to stop her from sliding forward.

Eyebrows going up, Blaine looked at Kurt. “Sugar poops?”

“Adam,” Kurt flatly replied.

“He was a bit of a dork!” Santana exclaimed.

Rachel licked her lips. “He made a good quiche.”

“I make blueberry pancakes.” Blaine innocently glanced at the girls.

“And yummy banana muffins,” Kurt injected.

“Pointy nose,” Santana belched and then pointed a finger at Blaine, “Pointy nose needs to teach you how to cook something other than tube steak.”

Squeezing his lover’s hand, Blaine protested, “But, it’s my favourite.”

The girls started to giggle.

Arching his head Blaine watched Kurt’s impish grin grow into a full smile. Four glasses clinked together, and the weekend moved on. Getting on the plane with a hangover proved harder than Blaine had thought. The snoozing on the flight barely covered the sleep Blaine needed and he did not care. His adventures left him thrilled and ready to face the next three weeks.


	29. Too Young

Blaine offered to hop the next plane without thinking, but no, it would not happen. Regardless of the raging sentiment inside, he would need to force himself to fight his way through the day. Hands clutched to his chest, he felt helpless and then he remembered he could do something. Waking his mother and arguing with is his father, he set out on a course of healing. Pam dropped her son off at school thirty minutes before the first class. They talked and hugged for a few minutes and then they parted. Other than the few kids who had a super early class, the halls felt morosely empty. Rounding the corner leading to the music room, Blaine slowed as his hand fell against the wall. Standing there stared at the door, he had to do this.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, Blaine plunked himself down in ‘his’ chair. A hand fell on the one beside him where Kurt normally sat all those months ago. His chest pulled tight as he drew in a deep, laboured breath. Slowly his eyes traversed the room and then he slowly sat back, cupping his hands together. Descended into deep, self-absorbed thought, Blaine blinked with the sudden light―where had he time gone. Eyes squishing tight he wondered how long he had been sitting there lost in thought. Leaning forward with his chin in his hands, he stared at the white board with red eyes.

“Hey Blaine―” Artie wheeled closer and stopped when he saw the look on Blaine’s forlorn pose. “Blaine, what’s up?”

Blaine looked up revealing the wet stains on his cheeks.

“Why so glum, Blainy Days?” Tina suddenly announced as she had walked up behind Artie to rest a hand on the back of his chair.

Glancing up at Tina, Artie pushed himself a little closer to the Blaine. In a soft tone he asked, “Have you and Kurt had another―”

“Finn’s dead.” With his thoughts in far off New York, the words barely escaped Blaine’s lips.

“What? When?” Artie’s face went white.

“How?” Tina said at almost the same time.

Wiping his eyes Blaine shrugged and then felt guilty for the simple act. “He’s dead.”

Dragging in a shaky breath, Tina sank to the chair beside Artie. For a moment she looked as if she did not believe it and then a tear rolled down her cheek. Reaching out for Artie, their hands squeezed together, and their eyes met.

“My god,” Artie’s voice could hardly be heard. Drawing in a deep breath, he looked up at Tina and the laid an arm across her shoulder.

Quivering against Arties’ shoulder, Tina stared at Blaine with watery eyes and pointed at the frame Blaine held against his chest. “What’s that?”

Leaning back into the chair, Blaine turned and placed a picture on the seat Finn would have sat in. Choking back emotion sad hazel eyes stared at the photograph of Finn and Kurt dancing in each other’s arms at their parent’s wedding.

Shifting in his chair, finger pressed into the skin under Artie’s eye where moisture touched warm skin. Breathlessly he whispered, “He made us all proud that day.”

Tina sniffled. “Look at his face. He loved―”

Pulling Tina closer, Artie let her cry.

“I wish I had been there. Kurt and I had just met, and I didn’t think it wise to crash the wedding.” Blaine choked on the air collecting in his lungs and took a moment to collect himself. “Finn and I had not always seen eye to eye. He admitted he felt jealous of me, but then he turned out to be a knight in shining armour. Barely twenty and his life had come to an . . . end. Finn always struggled with himself and his future, but he had moved past it toward something good and honest. He proved his measure when he put Rachel on the train for New York. Letting her go had been the strongest show of love I have ever seen. The tears and the sorrow deep inside. He loved her. He loved us all. Finn could have gone places, but now no one would ever know.”

Stunned silence prevailed as a tear rolled down all their cheeks.

“I can only imagine what Kurt is feeling. He looked to Finn as a true brother and a friend. They had their differences, but when Burt and Carole married, and Kurt faced off with Karofsky.” Blaine lost his words as sorrow took him. Swallowed hard, he looked at his friends and held a hand out to each. Fingers met and intertwined. “Kurt enjoyed speaking of the day his brother stood up to the bully wearing a shower curtain.”

Two teens chuckled and then Tina whispered, “I remember. What a bunch of freaks, but I had never seen Finn looking as proud.”

“We were quite the sight.” Artie let out a long breath. “Finn looked so ridiculous, but then we all did.”

“The first time Kurt told me that story I was in stitches.” Smearing the liquid under his eyes, Blaine’s heart sat on top of his stomach. He sighed and looked down at the photo. “Burt called me at three this morning.”

“How’s Carole?” Tina whispered, wiping the tears streaming down her face.

“Devastated.” Blaine looked down. “My mom and I went there right after calling Kurt. I have a key and I let myself and my mom in. Carole sat on the stairs crying. Mom is staying with her until Burt arrives from Washington in a couple of hours. I . . . I thought I would come here―”

“And . . . tell us.” Closing her eyes, Tina burst into tears again.

“How’s Kurt?” Artie asked as he pulled Tina closer.

“Shattered.” Blaine sucked in his tear soaked lips. “I could hear Rachel and Santana crying the background. Kurt could . . . barely talk. I just let him . . . cry. It killed me . . . I wasn’t there.”

“Blaine, he knows you’re with him,” Tina comforted the former Warbler by throwing her arms about her friend.

“I know.” Blaine sighed and closed his eyes, but water squeezed out through his long lashes. “Kurt’s flying in tonight.”

Tina paled and hugged Blaine even harder as she sobbed into his shoulder.

Accepting the sentiment, Blaine’s head fell upon her shoulder. Extending an arm, he added Artie to their small circle. Emotion openly ran as the three of them expressed themselves. Not only did Blaine cry for a friend, but also for someone he loved very much living hours away. Hearing the sobs over the phone and knowing he could not hold the man broke his heart. Kurt cried for a good twenty minutes before he pulled himself together enough to talk. The conversation lasted a few minutes longer before the phone started to beep as Burt called again.

The warmth of his friends so close conjured up a memory of Finn’s firm but compassionate hugs. That tumbled into the way he would look all sweet and gooey at Rachel. Finn and Kurt joking and playing with one another as brothers sometimes did or Finn being a leader and setting things straight or Finn just being Finn. In this room he filled people’s hearts with a goofy smile or his dreadful dance moves. In this room, like so many, Finn grew up and became the man his friends looked up to.

“Too young,” Blaine murmured as he pressed his forehead into Tina. “After Kurt left for New York Finn, Sam and I bonded over the Buckeyes. Finn and I found comradeship and support because we both loved someone living far away. The big guy had a side to him I had never seen before. His serious side considered many things I took for granted. He actively thought about where he wanted to be five years down the road. One the other hand, I dreamed. Becoming friends with the lovable man taught me much not to dream so much. He understood and did not judge when Kurt and I broke up. The light may have gone out but somewhere the embers of his kind heart are touching us.”

“Oh―” Tina start to cry once more.

Two teens wrapped their arms about the sobbing girl. Taking comfort in one another Artie’s head suddenly went up and he looked about the room. Emotional eyes focused on a figure standing just inside the door. Blaine muttered, “Miss Pillsbury?”

The school counsellor looked as if she might walk by but then she suddenly turned. Advancing a few steps into the room the look on her face changed as if she realized the seriousness of the situation. Her eyes met Blaine’s and she softly asked, “Is everything alright?”

Pulling away from his friends, Blaine wiped his hands down his cheeks and drew in a shuddering breath. In low, gravelly voice he replied, “Finn died last night.”

Pillsbury stood there for a long second and then sat on the piano stool. The look on her face told a story they all felt. Finn had made a name for himself not only on the football team, but in the Glee Club he proved his true worth. Many people looked up to him, the counsellor included. Lowering her head, a tear glistened in her eyes and then her expression changed as the news settled in. Pushing herself off the stool with her hands, she walked over to give the teens each a hug.

The news spread through the school over the next half hour, causing a disruption in the senior classes. An announcement informed the students they did not have to attend classes, but they could not go home either. The new students did not understand the quiet which took over the halls the seniors had claimed. All over the school large numbers of students sat about in various states, bringing the normal workings to a halt. Even the hall bullies pulled in their claws out of respect.

Blaine wished Kurt could see this because his lover had no idea what affect Finn had on the students coming up behind him. Friends, including members of the football team and some teachers, gathered in the chamber where Finn made his biggest impact. Some cried and others sat about talking. Brittany gave Blaine a hug and one of her all so charmingly weird statements. Sue did not even disrupt classes in her usual manner, and, in fact, she sat with her back to the wall crying like the rest of them.

The rest of the day flew by in a blur. Some classes got under way around eleven, but the school remained somber and quiet. At lunch the New Directions wandered out into the courtyard where they encountered eerie silence. The mood of the school disturbed Blaine and he returned to his sanctuary—the music room. It did not take long before the people who knew Finn the best joined him. Mr. Schuester talked to them and tried his best to help his students through their grief. Shortly before the end of the first period after lunch, Blaine called New York.

“Blaine?” Santana choked on his name as she fought to control her sentiments.

“I can call back,” Blaine disliked the words when they rolled from his mouth. He needed to speak to Kurt, but he also wanted to be respectful of their privacy.

“No, no,” Sorrow conquered Santana’s characteristically edgy tone. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“How’s everyone?” A dull ache raced through Blaine’s chest as he recalled the fact, Santana had once been interested in Finn. Hazel eyes darted around the room where he found many staring back.

“Rachel’s a mess. You can probably hear her crying into her pillow. She’s been in and out of it all day.”

“And Kurt?”

“He’s lying on his bed looked at an old scrap book. He’s―”

“Santana, can I speak with him?”

“Let me see and Blaine, thank you for calling.”

“We all loved him. All of us. I’m in the music room.”

“Have you told them?”

“Yeah. Everyone’s kind of upset.” Blaine could tell she moved within the loft. She must have been in the kitchen.

“Give them a hug for me.” The sound of fabric rings moving echoed in the phone and then she said something barely audible.

“Blaine?” Kurt moaned into the phone.

Blaine’s chest puffed out protectively even as his heart sank into his chest because Kurt’s tone tore into him making it hard to breath. Quickly pulling himself together, he murmured, “Hey, Kurt, how are you.”

“Good, I guess.” Kurt sounded weak.

Noting the sniffle at the end of the word, Blaine’s head hung down. With all his heart he wanted to be there to comfort Kurt in his arms. The hoarseness in Kurt’s quiet tone spoke to his heightened emotional state. He stung to hear it, but Blaine knew he had to keep it together not just for himself but for the man he loved.

“Is that Rachel?” Marley asked as she turned in her chair. Like the rest she had been peacefully sharing and dealing with the impact.

Holding the phone away from his mouth, Blaine replied, “I’m talking to Kurt.”

No one spoke for a few seconds and then Artie said, “Give him . . . well tell―”

Holding his hand up, he begged for peace. Putting the phone next to his ear Blaine said, “Kurt, everyone here is thinking of you and Rachel. They send their best.”

“Ah . . . thank them for Rachel and myself,” Kurt sounded clinical.

Pointing at the phone and then across the room on the other side of the band’s instruments, Blaine let his friends know he wanted some privacy. Picked up a chair, he carried it while speaking to his lover, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Hearing your voice is enough,” Kurt sounded distant. “How is everyone taking it?”

“I’m shocked.” Placing a chair against the wall, Blaine recognized Kurt’s guarded tone. Speaking in a soft calmness, Blaine said, “I’ve stepped away from the others. Now tell me how you’re really doing?”

Kurt said nothing as quiet sobs caressed Blaine’s ears for a few moments. Shedding tears, Blaine desperately wanted to hold his lover. It ate him up inside, he could do little but speak. The words held power and he knew they could help is some small way. Waiting, his eyes scanned the room, noting Tina and Artie held onto each other while Brittany sat there with a blank look on her face with her head on Schuester’s shoulder. Ms. Pillsbury sat next to the music teacher with an arm wrapped around Marley. Sam sat by himself with his hands pressed against his eyes. He stopped crying long ago, but looked despondent. Others dotted about the room came and went like faceless spectres. Blaine had trouble seeing anything as he concentrated on the man he loved.

The crying on the other end of the phone slowly subsided, but Kurt said nothing. Trying his best to keep his composure, Blaine agonized over the thought that, unlike their breakup, there would be no chance to get back together again. A friend, a brother and a comrade had passed from this world, leaving only memories and silence. Blaine’s chest heaved as more tears rolled from his eyes.

“Blaine.” The single word silently echoed through the phone followed by sharp breathing and a slight choking sound.

Sentiment constricted Blaine’s throat. “Kurt?”

“Don’t cry, it makes you―” The sweet, angelic voice of a man hundreds of miles away had a spark of wit to it.

“Look like a raccoon.” Blaine snickered

More tears passed through the phone followed by a sniffle. Quietly, Kurt said, “My lovely raccoon . . . I wish you were here. I really need you right now.”

The heart in Blaine’s chest became a lump and found it hard to draw air into his lungs. “I know. I wanted to take the first flight this morning, but my mom did not think it was a good idea. Then your father said you were flying in this evening.”

“Will you be there to meet me?” A hint of hope laced Kurt’s tone.

A little excited, Blaine quickly answered, “Nothing will stop me.”

Heavy breathing occupied the other end of the phone. With a sniffle, Kurt quietly said, “Hearing your voice makes me feel better but . . . I miss him . . . you.”

“Finn was a friend, Kurt. He and I grew closer after Rachel and you went to New York. I will miss him too.” Blaine paused as a tear rolled down his cheek. Swallowing, he forced his next words out. “I really . . . really . . . want to hold you right now and know you’re alright.”

Kurt started to cry again. Fighting with his own emotions, Blaine wanted to stay strong, but his efforts miserably failed. Chin trembling, he could not stop the water from cascading down his cheeks. Listening to the sobs on the other end of the phone shot spikes into his chest. Red ringed eyes shifted toward his mourning friends. They sat a group around Mr. Schuester watching from across the room. Hazel eyes fell upon Sam and Blaine sighed.

“I want that too, and―” Kurt’s voice failed. “I’m not . . . alright?”

“Kurt? Darling?” Blaine pleaded, but then he knew Kurt’s suffering had to take its course.

“To die so . . . young,” Kurt moaned, “And for something so stupid.”

A shiver ran up Blaine’s back, leaving an ugly feeling in its wake. Gasping for a quick breath, a phantom rose in his mind sending a sharp blade stabbing at his heart. The stomach turned and in his mind, he saw his breath freezing within a cloud of falling snow. Kurt could have been crying for the teen he had broken with but never stopped loving.

Giving his head a shake, Blaine squared his shoulders and pushed the dark thoughts from his mind. No, he lived. Yes, he loved Kurt. Yes, he would be there for the sweet man for the rest of his life. No, he did not want to think about that dark day.

“Blaine, you’re so quiet?” Kurt’s voice sounded tentative.

Blaine blinked. “Just thinking?”

“Of what?” A flicker of enthusiasm touched Kurt’s voice.

Blaine lied. “Football.”

“Oh?” Kurt sounded unsure.

A small smile broke the gloom on Blaine’s face. “Yes, you’re reading vogue, while Finn and I are jumping up and down on the other end of the couch.”

Kurt suddenly moaned and broke into tears again. Choking them back, he sputtered, “He was. . . playing . . . late night football . . . and took a big hit.”

Gagging on his breath, Blaine’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach. “Oh, god Kurt, I’m so . . . sorry I brought it up.”

Kurt’s reaction came swiftly. “No . . . Blaine, please don’t go there. Carole and Burt only found out an hour ago.”

“Fuck!” Snuffling back his own fears and doubts Blaine moaned, “I should be there.”

Emotion swelled on the other end of the phone. “I want to hold you so much.”

“I know, and I feel . . . terrible.” Blaine bit his lip.

“Blaine.” The single word came out as a deadpan note followed by a short intake of air. The sentences that followed had a loving tone to them. “You have always been the softer of the two of us, but you’re my rock this morning. Thinking of you make the pain bearable.”

Blaine’s turn to sob. Emotion and words, he had nothing else to share. Ever since a ring had been pressed onto Kurt’s fingers the feelings, they shared blossomed. Switching the phone in his other hand, he looked down at his right hand. Warmth spread up through his chest because his skin tingled. A broad smile stretched the side of his face because for a split second he felt a touch.

“Blaine?” Kurt’s soft voice questioned.

A curly haired boy with no gel, hesitated. “I was just thinking of holding your hand.”

Quiet for a second, Kurt quietly replied with an awed sound, “So was I.”

“Kurt, I love you.” Blaine gushed into the phone.

“I love you too Blaine,” Kurt sniffled. “More than you can imagine.”

Snuffling, Blaine drew in a breath and looked to the others in the room. They all stared at him. “Everyone is here, Kurt. The New Directions. They sent you their love.”

Tears flowed on the other end of the phone again. Choking on his words he muttered, “I miss them. Tell them I miss them.”

“I will Kurt.”

Again, silence and then Kurt hoarsely whispered, “I really need you.”

“I will be at the airport.”

“Will you hug me?”

“I will never let you go.”

“Blaine, I miss him so much. Finn had been my champion, my brother and friend.” Kurt suddenly laughed. “When he confronted Karofsky in that Lady Gaga outfit.”

“We were reminiscing, and the shower curtain came up.” Blaine lightly chuckled. “I would have loved to have seen it.”

“The guys on the football―” Kurt fell silent again. “He died of an . . . aneurysm.”

“Oh my―” Blaine whispered as the silence broke. Curling his lips in, he ran a hand through his fuzzy hair as his eyes went to Artie and Tina. His head bowed low and he drew in a deep breath.

“Stupid game.” Kurt growled. “What a―”

“Kurt, don’t. Finn loved the game and you played for a little bit.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“When you get in tonight, I will let you have time with your family.”

“You’re family and I would like you to be there.”

They both started to chuckle long time ago Kurt has explained certain facts to Blaine.

“Hey?” Kurt’s voice sounded weak.

Blaine mirrored his love’s tone. “Yes.”

“Can you look in on my father and Carole?”

“I stopped in this morning. Carole was alone. My mom is still there and Burt in coming in as soon as he can. Mom said I could stay home today, but I wanted. . . needed to tell the others. I did not want them to hear on the news through the grapevine.”

“Oh, Blaine―”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“I should be in about six. I will text you the flight number.”

“I would have been in your arms by now if I had wings.”

Kurt laughed. “You are my everything Blaine. My love. My rock. My anchor. My snuggle bunny.”

A tear rolled down Blaine’s cheek. “I will show you snuggle bunny tonight.”

“I . . . I ―” Kurt suddenly stopped.

“No, Kurt. I will be your pillow and you can hold me until you have no more tears to shed.”

“I love you too much, Blaine.”

“Kurt, all this crying makes your eyes puffy.”

“Rachel is taking care of that for both of us.”

“Is she coming with you?”

“It hit her hard. After everything they had been through, she still loved him. She needs a couple of days to pull herself together. One of her fathers is flying in and Santana will be with her.”

“Kurt, I―”

“Blaine, it’s alright, but I am going to have to get a move on.”

“Be strong and I will be holding you in a few hours.”

Kurt made kissing sounds into the phone and then the line went dead. Blaine’s arms dropped, and he just stared out into space. Finn, dead—unbelievable. Drawing in a deep breath, he thought of the two weapons he knew used to combat sorrow—Kurt and music. Searching his thought, he recalled Kurt’s tale of an infamous kiss. Steeling his heart, Blaine drew in a breath and began to sing in low tones.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKTbP8MBO94)

_Face to face and heart to heart_   
_We're so close yet so far apart_   
_I close my eyes I look away_   
_That's just because I'm not okay_   
_But I hold on, I stay strong_   
_Wondering if we still belong_

Stirring in their seat’s friends joined in on by one. Slowly Blaine stood and walked toward them.

_Will we ever say the words we're feeling_   
_Reach down underneath and tear down all the walls_   
_Will we ever have our happy ending?_   
_Or will we forever only be pretending?_   
_Will we always, always, always be pretending_

_How long do I fantasize_   
_Make believe that it's still alive_   
_Imagine that I am good enough_   
_And we can choose the ones we love_   
_But I hold on, I stay strong_   
_Wondering if we still belong,_

_Will we ever say the words we're feeling_   
_Reach down underneath and tear down all the walls_   
_Will we ever have our happy ending?_   
_Or will we forever only be pretending?_   
_Will we always, always, always be_

_Keeping secrets safe_   
_Every move we make_   
_Seems like no ones letting go_   
_And it's such a shame_   
_Cause if you feel the same_   
_How am I supposed to know?_

_Will we ever say the words we're feeling_   
_Reach down underneath and tear down all the walls_   
_Will we ever have our happy ending?_   
_Or will we forever only be pretending?_   
_Will we always, always, always be_   
_Will we always, always, always be_   
_WIll we always, always, always be pretending?_

By the end everyone had gathered around the chair Finn had normally occupied. Holding hands, they stared at the picture of two brothers dancing.


	30. Ashes

“Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,” the priest droned standing over the casket covered with bright red, white and yellow flowers. His hand slowly moved in blessing. “Finn lived a short but good life. Those who knew him will remember his kindness and good spirit. His soul travels to heaven, where he looks down upon us with an adoring smile. I can see by those gathered, Finn touched many. He loved and in turn had been loved.”

The numbness of his fingers testified to how hard the hand-holding his. Kurt stood beside Blaine, left hand in right, looking stoned face as tears rolled down his face. In turn a son held Carole’s hand while on the other side of a distraught mother stood Burt. Holding his wife’s other hand, the congressman dabbed the water from his eyes. Rachel’s soft and shaking hand gripped Blaine’s left. Around them arrayed family, the Glee club, the football team, students, teachers and other friends. As a testament to what people thought of the young jock, four hundred people show up for Finn’s funeral.

Moving in response to Kurt’s motions, Blaine reassured his fiancé by rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. The heart rested heavily in his chest, but at the same time, Blaine sensed undying love for the man he adored. Hard times could make or break any relationship, and, in this instance, it added cement to a firm foundation. Seeing Kurt so upset, forced Blaine to face some of his issues left over from their split and openly sharing emotion it easier.

Regardless of his own feelings, the past few days had been about two brothers and their complex relationship. After all, their trials in the beginning, Finn turned out to be a good guy. Right after the wedding proposal Kurt called his brother to share the joy. It took a little while before the jock called back, but when it did his voice overflowed with excitement. Kurt put it on speakerphone for everyone to hear as he told his brother about his future brother-in-law. Finn went silent and, then in his usual style he came back with a simple—what took you so long. Blaine thought he heard him sniffled when Kurt asked his brother to be his best man. Blaine had already decided on Sam.

On this day and at this time, Blaine had trouble keeping his thoughts together due to conflicting emotions. Feeling numb, he forced himself to focus on supporting his lover and his family. So much had been said, bringing a sense of remorseful calm and then Rachel arrived stirring sentiment. The atmosphere in the choir roomed changed when she arrived. It had settled in with most people and then her song pierced their hearts. Emotions flared again bringing a new round of sobbing and hugs.

The fingers wrapped around his twitched every so often indicating Kurt’s moods. When Kurt came home, Blaine stayed overnight cuddling with the man as they quietly talked and cried. Kurt did not know what to do with himself and Blaine did not understand what he could do to help. One moment, Kurt would be upbeat and then next a mess. Blaine had nothing to relate to other than the funeral for Pavarotti, which gave Blaine a hint of how Kurt had felt at his mother’s burial. He knew the bird, but it had only been a bird. Finn, on the other hand, talked, joked and sang with Blaine. They fought and compromised, made promises and watched football games together and gently bugged Kurt who read.

Six days ago, Kurt arrived at the airport where his family scooped him up into a loving embrace. Standing off to one side Blaine’s brow pressed together, giving his fiancé a sad look. As the family shed tears together, he watched Kurt as he buried his head into Burt’s chest. With his other arm, he drew Carole as close could and then gently kissed her on the cheek. Trying his best not to cry, part of Blaine wanted to march over there and then he wanted to be reverential. Finn had been a friend, but to Kurt he became a brother, to Carole and Burt a son.

He came because Kurt wanted it and he needed it. Talking on the phone just did not do it and then Kurt suffered through the plane ride alone. With nothing to do but to stare at his copy of SkyMall, the dear man must have endured all sorts of thoughts and emotions. Hand folded behind his back, he choked back deep feelings, hoping his presence helped.

A hand reached out and on instinct Blaine took it. It felt cold and shaky, but alive at the same time. Five digits squeezed drawing Blaine so close two young men caught a whiff of each other scent. Looking up wet blue eyes fell caught hazel and a lump rose in Blaine’s throat. Drawing in a deep breath a tear rolled down his cheek. Carole’s hand touched his arm, drawing Blaine into the embrace where she caressed his back. With a sigh, he melted into the embrace allowing sentiment to take him.

Conscious of the desire for the boys to have a moment alone, the parents stepped away first as Burt placed his arms protectively around his wife. Two teens looked at each other with deep sadness and then hugged as if their lives depended on it. A head fell on Blaine’s shoulder and he felt his lover shudder. Holding each other for a long moment Blaine broke it up when he gently kissed Kurt on the cheek. Blue eyes stared at him and then Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine’s. The chaste kiss brought a small smile to each of their faces and then embraced again knowing their warmth soothed.

Glancing up, Blaine looked to Carole and allowed her to draw him into a hug. A heavy breath expanded his chest and then his head came to rest on her shoulder. Burt wrapper his arms about the two of them and then Kurt nestled in behind his fiancé completing the circuit. For the first time that day, Blaine felt protected from the angst he suffered. How upset would Kurt be? Did the family truly want him to be there? He knew he worried for the sake of worrying, but he always did. A fault and a strength, seeing the look in Kurt’s eyes made his heart stand still and then a twinkle glistened within those blue orbs. Blaine smiled and shed a tear at the same time.

Kurt went to McKinley a few times and sat in on practice, but did not sing. His appearance in the music room door brought everyone to a stop. No one knew what to say and then Brittany raced forward to give Kurt a hug which Kurt just fell into. Tears flowed from her eyes as she rubbed her hand up and down her friends back. Bodies gradually surrounded two sad lovers as the New Directions found solace in one another’s arms.

Mercedes arrived from the west coast two days after Kurt. Stopping at the Hummel’s before going to her parent’s house, she paid her respect and had a good cry. She took the news of Finn’s death hard. Mike arrived that night and, in the morning, he joined others placing flowers and mementos at the base of where Finn’s locker had been. Everyone looked up the arrival of Rachel and Santana interrupted their thoughts. Rachel honestly loved Finn. Her high school boyfriend broke her heart when he did the right thing sending her to New York. She would not have taken that big step if he had not been so brave. Anger filled Rachel’s heart at the time, but Finn proved his affection when he saved her from being devastated by Brody. Like two estranged men, Finn and Rachel hooked up at Schuester’s failed wedding. Now she stood there with tears running down her cheeks.

Looking to Kurt, Blaine let out a soft sigh as his thoughts mixed with the minister’s words. The darling man barely held it together and the sight stung Blaine’s heart. Nothing he could do would make Finn come back or heal the pain in his lover’s chest. Being there, holding his hand, spoke of a committed love Blaine knew would help soften the shock. Incapable of doing anything else, his mind shot ‘what ifs’ at him. What it had been Kurt, who had died? The muscles of his torso wrenched at the thought. The weeks of separation had been rough, but never being able to see him again, well Blaine did not know how he would survive. If Kurt had said no, yes, it would have been beyond painful, but he would know Kurt still lived. This felt terribly permanent.

Kurt must have known Blaine gazed at him because the grip of his hand tightened. Slowly Blaine leaned his head on Kurt’s shoulder where hair briefly ruffled gelled curls as his lover’s head moved ever so slightly in response. The service went on and Blaine found his mind drifting back to the church where Kurt chose to speak.

“A . . . brother. A savour. My knight in shining armour,” Kurt started and then fell silent. With water streamed down his cheeks, the young man faltered as he gasped for air as his eyes wandered to the images of Finn flashing on a screen to his left. “Finn . . . brother mine of another mother . . . it’s too early for you. Your life . . . has been filled with joy and discovery. When we first―”

Sucking in a deep breath, Blaine bit his lower lip. Squeezing a balled-up Kleenex in his fist, his right hand rested on the empty space Kurt had been sitting in. His mother sat to his left with one hand wrapped around her son’s arm. To everyone’s surprise, Daniel came to the funeral and quietly sat next to her.

Carole and Burt sat side by side next to the empty space. Sylvester, Schuester, Pillsbury and the New Direction, new and old, sat two rows back with other family members filled in the space between. The teens of the New Directions escorted Finn into the church with the family, with Blaine walking behind. A football rested in the center of the casket surrounded by flowers at Carole’s insistence. Burt would have it no other way.

Fingers touched his and Blaine started with the surprise. Glancing to his right, Carole’s hand had come to rest on his. Their eyes did not meet, but her thumb warmly caressed Blaine’s hand. The teen reciprocated as he flipped his hand over wrapping his fingers in hers.

“Finn . . . you lovable hunk, your quirky little smile hid a hidden mischievous side. Then your face would explode into a smile so big the room would light up. To a bullied gay―” Kurt stalled.

A shot of pain shot through Blaine’s stomach—Karofsky. Defeating the urge to look back, Blaine knew Kurt’s old tormentor sat in the back to the church.

Blue eyes sought Blaine as if Kurt somehow knew. With a small grin he continued, “He was the straight boy who struggled to understand and overcome his own fears. Yes . . . we clashed and then we . . . grew and became real brothers. At our parent’s wedding he showed me he could be―” Wiping his eyes with his hand, Kurt fell silent again. An image of the two brothers dancing arm in arm flashed on the screen.

Smiling, Blaine felt a tear roll from his eyes. He loved Kurt so much.

“Your mother . . . Carole . . . said I saved her from her wardrobe just as my father had saved her from―” Kurt bit his lip and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Struggling to get the words out, he tried, “Finn you . . . saved me, protected me and . . . loved me. You―”

Opening and closing his eyes to wick the tears way, Blaine watched his suffering husband-to-be knowing the words killed him. Then he saw it, a hand longingly stretched out to him as if pleading for help. Honey brown eyes quickly looked to Burt and Carole. Finn’s mother looked straight ahead with a look of despondence on his pale face. Her husband stared at his son and then looked to Blaine. A tear running down his face, the congressman nodded, and Blaine glanced at his mom. Pam patted her son on the arm with a reassuring smile.

Lifting Carole’s hand with his, Finn’s mother glanced at Blaine. An expressionless face slowly turned into a small smile and she mouthed the words—go to him. Biting his upper lip, Blaine kissed her hand.

Feeling a little self-conscious as he stood, Blaine glanced back at his friends and then stepped forward. Climbing the steps to the podium, his eyes locked on Kurt, who stood frozen in time. The man he loved looked upset, but then those blue eyes spoke of hope and love. Kurt needed the support a right hand in his left could offer. At the time, neither of them understood the impact their short friendship with a jock would have on them.

Old Blaine recalled the feeling of Kurt’s cool, sweaty hand slipping into his as if he stood there once more. Fingers gripped tightly at first and Blaine swore he could feel Kurt’s pulse pounding in his thumb. As he felt his own warmth spread to Kurt, Blaine sensed the relief within his boyfriend. Blue eyes shifted to the left and for a moment Kurt’s watery eyes brightened bringing an old man pleasure. Wishing he could feel the same, old lips pressed into the wrinkled skin of the man beside him. During a solemn occasion all those years ago, Kurt’s thumb rubbed the back of Blaine’s hand drawing strength from some timeless place old Blaine only now began to understand.

Aged eyes scanned up the wall behind the piano where a goofy picture of Finn with crooked glassed took center stage. Blurred by age and tears, old Blaine fondly smiled. Such a short life, but then Finn left a mark two husbands could not deny. The named a refurbished auditorium for Finn years after his death and the tree planted in his honour became a clump of trees as a joint memorial for other students who passed before their time. With the growing environmental upheaval on the coasts, the school became a refugee center, but the trees survived the rebuilding of the school for the fourth time.

Finn’s death became a bit of a wake-up call for many of the New Directions as in it brought the stark reality of life to the forefront. An old man recalled listening to the many conversations where some people actually grew up changing their ways. It made a young Blaine fell proud even though Finn had to die.

Back then, the man whose hand he rested his head on, seemed to fragile. Even now he could recall Kurt’s words as the young man drew in a deep breath and started speaking again.

“Finn had not always been―” Sniffles caused Kurt to pause and then blue eyes locked on hazel. Drawing on the strength he saw there, Kurt carried on. “Finn, when we . . . first met you tossed me in the dumpster.”

A couple of people in the mourners chuckled, Puckerman among them.

Squeezing Blaine’s hand, Kurt expected the reaction. Eyes flickered, and the step-brother went on, “Then you showed compassion by allowing me to take off my designer jacket or hold my bag. Finn struggled with who he was, but his heart always remained pure and strong. He loved more than we could ever imagine. While he hated babysitting, he loved children. He would have made a wonderful father.”

A handkerchief came up to Rachel’s face as her father beside her pulled her closer.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Kurt leaned into Blaine. Closing his eyes for a second he went on, “He played the games the popular kids did, but deep down he had a . . . heart of gold. He made me so angry, but then I heard what he did for Artie and I realized a human lived under all those pads. He came across as such a jerk and such a jock. When Mr. Schuester tricked him into joining Glee, Finn looked so . . . frightened. But then, what a voice. What whit. What a smile.”

Stalling, Kurt pulled in a long breath and glanced at Blaine who winked.

Kurt slowly went on, “Finn swallowed his fears and stepped out of his out of his private closet. Finn turned out to be a friend . . . no a great friend . . . who put his reputation on the line to save me from a beating by wearing a red shower curtain.”

The audience laughed when an image of Finn wearing a red shower curtain flashed as if on cue.

A smirk brightened Kurt’s demeanor. “He proved to be strong, caring and a man. It broke his heart when Rachel left for New York, but that had heart always . . . he loved you Rachel.”

Many eyes went to Rachel, who, leaned into one of her fathers. A tear rolled down Blaine’s cheek, causing him to draw in a deep breath. Kurt’s fingers pulsed, and two men looked at each other for a split second.

“His life ended too early,” Kurt sniffled and dabbed his nose with his handkerchief. “Too early . . . but everyone he touched knows the man he would have been. He loved life. He loved football. He loved his family and friends. We can only speculate where all this love would have taken him . . . Broadway, movies, the Super bowl . . . or lots of children running around a tire store while he holds the woman he loved.”

Hazel eyes went to Rachel causing his chest to tighten and then large wet eyes shifted to Kurt.

“Darling Rachel.” Kurt paused to catch his breath. “He’s up there looking down at you . . . at all of us . . . with a heart filled with love.”

With the arm one of her father’s wrapped around her, and the other holding her hand, Rachel wiped the tears from her eyes.

Choking up, Blaine found it hard not to shed a tear himself. Every word held undeniable truth and spoke of the promise of a young man whose life would never see the years pass. At one time Finn filled a hole in Blaine’s heart as the two of them soldiered through the first phases of New York. Parallel paths pulled them together and while Blaine did not love him the way Kurt did, he still loved him.

Glancing at Blaine, Kurt bit at his lips and squeezed a hand. Drawing in a deep breath, he added before the two stepped away from the podium, “I miss him. . . I loved him and . . . he left us too soon.”

The wind blew through gelled hair as if a kindred soul reached out to comfort him. Looking up into the sky of mixed white and blue a ray of warm struck his face. For a second it felt as if three fingers stroked his cheek. Smiling, he glanced at Kurt, who stood there staring at the casket lost in his memories and grief. Love touched Blaine’s heart meshing with sadness. From Blaine’s perspective, his fiancé showed courage Blaine rarely felt. Kurt moved through his life with a stately poise and a childish whimsy of a man who knew what he wanted. Today he, they, held on to each other not only our sadness or love, but because of a man Kurt called brother.

The minister spoke his last words of blessing and then turned to the family offering his hand. Shaking those of the grieving parents and brother, he then stepped back allowing them a moment. A head gently came to rest on Blaine’s shoulder and co-joined hands pressed around to his back. The familiar smell caressed Blaine’s nose, causing his heart to feel less pain.

Around them the crowds started to thin. Finn’s closest friends accepted an invitation to go back to the Hummel’s this afternoon, but for now, they gave the family time. Slowly, Rachel walked around to the other side of the coffin where she stopped. A hand coming up to her face she sobbed, and her two fathers stepped forward to comfort their child. The two had split up just before Rachel left for New York. While they may not think of themselves in the same light any more, they came together to support their daughter they both loved.

Holding wife’s shoulder, Burt wiped the water from his cheeks and looked to Kurt. He loved Finn as if he had been his own child, but then he also thought of Kurt’s mother. They expected her to die, but it made it no less hard. The death of Carole’s husband had a dark edge, but Finn came as an unforeseen surprise.

The pulse of Kurt’s left hand pounded beneath the flesh gently reminded Blaine of his luck. The heart lifted, bringing a small smile to Blaine’s lips. Lightly squishing those fingers, the young man reciprocated and then his head slowly lifted. Blue eyes stared into hazel and then Kurt smiled. In that instant Blaine knew it would take time, but his lover would recover.

Holding a handkerchief to her face, Carole stood over her son with Burt’s arm lovingly wrapped around her. No longer crying, she stared at the flower strewn casket lost in deep thoughts only a mother could understand. No one said a word as quiet footfalls crunching leaves and the wind became the only sound. The sun beat down over head providing warmth on a sad day.

Suddenly she held her hand out to Kurt, who waited with Blaine a respectfully short distance away. Answering, Kurt walked forward and dutifully Blaine followed. The former Warbler felt awkward interrupting in a deep family matter, but Kurt would not let his hand go. The days leading up to this moment turned out harder than expected because the police held onto Finn’s body. Burt admitted it had to do with the fact he worked in Washington and the Federal Bureau of Investigation had to be certain.

Wrapping his arm about his stepmother, Kurt leaned in close bowing his head. Reaching across her stepson’s back, Carole’s hand brushed against Blaine’s suit jacket catching his attention. Looking that way, Carole gazed at him with red eyes. The teen’s left hand gently came to rest on hers. Now holding two different hands, Blaine moved as close to Kurt as he could while watching Rachel. Her arms folded across her chest, she stepped closer to the casket from the opposite side of the family. Head bowed, she gently placed her hand on the casket with tears streaming down her face. She loved him more than anyone could have realized.

Choking back a sob, Blaine saw Kurt’s head rise against his. Together they gazed across the flowers at the woman who would have married Kurt’s brother. Wearing black, she drew in a deep breath and then her tender voice broke the silence, causing the departing crowd to pause.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DEaCDdTQvk4)

_When the rain is blowing in your face_   
_And the whole world is on your case_   
_I could offer you a warm embrace_   
_To make you feel my love_

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear_   
_And there is no one there to dry your tears_   
_I could hold you for a million years_   
_To make you feel my love_

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet_   
_But I would never do you wrong_   
_I've known it from the moment that we met_   
_No doubt in my mind where you belong_

_I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue_   
_And I'd go crawling down the avenue_   
_No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do_   
_To make you feel my love_

_Oohh_   
_Hmmm_

_Oh, the storms are raging on the rolling sea_   
_And on the highway of regret_   
_The winds of change are blowing wild and free_   
_You ain't seen nothing like me yet_

_I could make you happy, make your dreams come true_   
_Nothing that I wouldn't do_   
_Go to the ends of the Earth for you_   
_To make you feel my love_

_To make you feel my love_


	31. A Fine End

Smiling up at the man he loved, old Blaine recalled how Kurt drew back from lovemaking following Finn’s funeral. The lovers moved into the Hummel’s where cuddling became a mainstay of their healing. Fully clothed Kurt would lean up against Blaine’s warm body beside him while his lover gently stroked his head and neck. Stealing the occasional kiss became their only risqué display of intimacy. The loss hung raw on Kurt’s heart and, honestly, Blaine just did not have the desire for anything more strenuous.

The night before a fiancé and two friends returned to New York, Kurt initiated romance. It started out tentatively as if sex would ruin Kurt’s mourning, but then he became the beast Blaine enjoyed. Raw emotion and longing overcame sorrow as the moment feed their love and cemented the feelings, they would need to carry them through until Blaine graduated. Those weeks became a bit of a jumble in an old man’s mind where the reality of his life dwindled. Moments ago, his aging mind recognized the fact his beloved Kurt joined his stepbrother.

Visiting every three weeks did not seem enough for either of them, but they made due. Talking on the phone and texting sweet nothings helped them through the day followed by longingly staring at each other via Skype. Pain could still be heard in Kurt’s voice, but he started a conversation about postgraduation. Oddly, old Blaine did not recall speaking about the issue of actually living together. Shortsighted on both their parts, it became something a dying man tried not to think about. He hated the arguments, but like the making up. The second split almost killed him and to find solace he went somewhere he felt might allow him to move on, but it only acted as a constant reminder.

Reaching up, old fingers stroked a dead lover’s cheek, old Blaine felt Kurt’s warmth even though the breath had gone out of him. A tear rolled down wrinkled skin to drop from a cheek. “Do you remember the day . . . no of course you don’t. Oh, my dearest, you filled me with every emotion. Oh, how foolish, of course you remember when I traveled to New York just to take you for dinner. Not just a burger, but a real dinner. Two young puppies dressed in suits and holding hands as we walked into one of the finest restaurants off Battery Park. I did that all for you, my love. I wanted you . . . well you know . . . I loved you and still do with all my heart. Finn died, and you still mourned, and I needed to do this for you.”

“My soul knew something that my mind and body didn't.” An old man grinned and lay his head against a still hand.”I said that to you once, my love and it meant everything my soul felt.”

A tear rolled from old, hazel eyes. Unable to see clearly, his glasses lay on the coffee table in front of him. The furniture of their humble abode remained classic, but, old when compared to modern standards. The loving couple had acquired many items over their lives replacing the old hand-me-downs they once had with fine and expensive pieces. Through their fourties, fifties and sixties, they became a Broadway power couple and Kurt wanted to keep up appearances. To be honest, old Blaine did not mind because he liked the good life.

“Finn, oh Finn, we missed you. Two old queers celebrated every year a life that could have been with Rachel singing your favourites. When I wrote a musical honouring you, my dearest Kurt, cried at the opening.” Squinting the picture of Finn with offset glasses and a goofy look on his face came into focus. One of the new New Directions collected up the items of Kurt’s private time capsule and shipped it to him when Sylvester want to cleanse it. Now most of it held a special place on the shelf.

Old Blaine snickered and then his thoughts shifted as if a plug had been pulled on a sink. The suffering man blinked and just lay there with a blank look on his face. Nothing happened for a few short seconds and then a hard breath filled his lungs. Heavily exhaling, he whispered, “It's funny how it works. We lived and loved our lives through, and he died so young. Will he be there when I join you? Are you speaking to him right now? Has he and Rachel come back and found each other again? We will.”

The heart beat hard in the chest, sending another wave of pain shooting down the left side of the body. Gritting his teeth, lungs struggled to pull air in and for a moment an old brain winked out as if the channel had been switched. The fog of late-night television took over creating a field of snow. A body spasm came with another shock wave racing through his limbs telling Blaine he did not have long. The halls of McKinley floated into existence once more where a young man stood facing an angry teenage girl with a second girl staring on in horror. His husband had made a statement and, strangely, Blaine looked at the rebuttal from a disturbing perspective.

“―said to heart, and I thought long and hard about it, and it occurred to me that you may have a point.” Santana stated in a soft low tone. She looked young and irritated in stark contrast to the last time an old man saw her. Twenty years ago, she rested in a padded rocking chair, looking at two age old friends while a medical machine cleansed her blood. Dozing in the chair beside her, Brittany survived her by a dozen years.

“Okay, maybe Brittany and I are too young to get married.” Santana paused for a second and then rolled on with her usual charm and sharp tongue. “I mean, after all, that's why it didn't work out with you and Blaine, right? Or maybe it didn't work out because you're a judgmental little gerontophile with a mouth like a cat's ass. Maybe Blaine got tired of hearing your shrill, self-aggrandizing lecture about how you felt the two of you were at the very apex of the gay rights movement every time you so much as cooked macaroni and cheese together or farted.”

Coughing made it hard for old Blaine to laugh. The story always changed with the telling and who told it. Over time Blaine pieced his own version together because he knew he would never get the whole truth. The first recounting came while drinking two bottles of wine one night after they reunited.

The tornado called Santana flashed away, leaving an old man both shocked and pleased. Embers of the confrontation echoed in his mind, allowing him to grasp at the aftermath his husband had glossed over. Angry words sank deep into Kurt’s chest as his thoughts rolled back to a when two young lovers broke for the first time. The emptiness of the soul returned, leaving an ugly sensation of lose.

Chin hanging down, Rachel’s eyes followed Santana and then they shifted to Kurt. The pale boy stood there blankly gazing at a dozen sets of stunned eyes staring back at him. In some odd way, an old man felt the sentiment clashing within the man he loved. Logic told him the pain scattered his mind, but something deeper allowed and old man to feel his lover in a manner he had never expected. The mind grappled with what it heard leaving and old man stunned. Thoughts shifted as if he stood there in the hall listening.

“Well, that was―” Rachel fell silent.

She barely got the word out before Kurt cut her off. Pulling his hand back from in front of his face Kurt huffed and harshly stated, “Let’s . . . what the hell―”

“Kurt?” Rachel grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hall.

“How dare she?” Kurt grumbled on the outside, even though his heart flipped.

An old man never realized what an affect those words had on the man he loved. Their youth had been a mix of ups and downs which shattered them in so many ways as their love sank into a pool of despair and anger. Childish stubbornness almost doomed them, but the fault lay in their inability to talk.

Breathing in an old man waited for the discomfort to pass. In a low, soft voice, old Blaine whispered, “Thank you Santana.”

From out of nowhere a puff of warm air passed through what remained of Blaine’s hair as if someone thanked him. The smell of a luxury, coffee, floated in front of his old nose. Laughing, his eyes went up to his husband again and he smiled. “Our lives together have been blessed, my love. A squabble here and a massive disagreement there, but we survived. I loved those long days after we got back together again. You made me feel so comforted.”

Shifting to make himself more comfortable, old Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s forearm and gently stroked his unmoving hand. “How I loved and adored . . . adore you. Flowers in the afternoon and long mornings in each other’s arms between days and weeks of madness. We’ve made our mark on history and for that I am proud. We endured and overcame and were just ourselves.”

“You always thought we were so young, but I never did. Do you remember―” Old Blaine drew in a breath and grinned. “Well, I do. You always had something special for us to do when I came to New York and then there were all those little things you did in school or back stage. Waking up with the children during a thunderstorm or getting between them during a fight. It tore me apart those years they did not speak.”

A sigh escaped old lips and a wrinkled cheek came to rest against a hand. Closing his eyes, a surviving partner lamented the lack of a pulse. He missed it. He missed Kurt. He missed so much. “Finn, you dear man, you were . . . Gods, I’m all over the place today. You would call it normal, my love, but then we’re both old farts with old fart’s problems.”

“Did I put on blue or red socks this morning? I don’t remember but . . . then . . . I don’t know?” Clearing his throat, old Blaine sighed, followed by a frown. “Why is it I can see so clearly now when I forgot the water in the kettle this morning. I had to give up what I loved because I could no longer remember where the notes were. Our poor piano has seen less action than we have over the past few years. Pity, I loved playing . . . both.”

Hazel eyes rolled up, allowing his lover’s chin into view. The sight enthralled him for a moment seconds and then his brow scrunched up. Sighing, he said, “You would just call me old, as you did this morning with a smile and a flirtatious wink.”

The brows furrowed and then one went up as if Blaine lost track of his thoughts. Eyes scanned the room and then focused on a large musical instrument. “When you went back to McKinley I was surprised to find a piano in the courtyard. Convenient, but odd. Later I learned there were pianos all over the school and I thought, ‘what a cool thing’. We were . . . are . . . such cool people. You made me happy in so many ways even when I was angry.’

Words suddenly failed as a crushing blow gripped the old man’s heart. Uncontrolled tears welled up in his eyes as he drew in air through short breaths. The sensation started at the tip of his fingers ending in a sharp spike of agony in his chest. A hand pressed flat against his sweater as if it could somehow end the pain. Head drooping onto Kurt’s arm, an old man panted while sweat dripped into an eye.

“Here it comes . . . my love . . . we will be meeting you soon. A chill runs through me . . . oh . . . Baby it's cold in here.” Struggling against the ache, old Blaine closed his eyes and found the strength to chuckle. “We sounded so good back then and you were . . . are so beautiful. I was so stupid not to see how I flirted with you. It felt so natural as if we had been together for years already.”

A coughing fit mixed with the pain of an irregularly beating heart broke and old man’s thoughts. No longer able to feel the tips of his toes and fingers, numbness caressed his body. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his back as if on a hot, summer’s day. Short, groping breaths forced air into his lungs, making his torments worse. The body died but his soul and memories made demands forcing an old man to go on.

A sudden jolt of pain caused the eyes to roll up into the back of old Blaine’s head. Then, the sound of applause and laughter pulled at him, followed by another puff of warm air on his cheek. Startled, another jet of pain wracked his body and then he felt abrupt calm as if someone wrapped their loving arms about him. With a smile, he placed his hand weakly against Kurt’s and wrapped their fingers together. Right fingers wrapped next to left, he instantly felt a sense of wonder. Why had Kurt peacefully passed, and he suffered? Did the misgivings of his heart and the power of life want him to see something?

Inhaling a few short gasps of air, the dread in the center of his chest faded to a dull ache. Tense muscles deflated, but the brain remained fuzzy. Instinct and the needs of the body dictated thought, but something pulled at him leaving him confused. Until this latest attack, he managed to hold it together, but now he felt tired. Scattered beliefs tried to force his intellect to compose the words properly according to the events a lifetime ago.

Drawing in a heavy breath he weakly smiled. “I miss you so much and remember that I love you always.”

“Where did I put my glasses?” Old eyes glanced about, and everything looked fussy. “Want to see that picture of you on our fiftieth wedding anniversary. No . . . damn . . . it’s on the bedroom wall or packed.”

“Age holds me, but then I feel young. Funny, it feels as if I . . . either that or I’ve truly lost it this time.” The side of an old man’s face curled up into that all so charming lopsided grin and then he chuckled. “Don’t ask me how but . . . I don’t know. I’ve never subscribed to what the experts call the secrets of death. It hasn’t helped the two of us, but then everything but everything. Why do I feel I’ve been here before?”

The neck cocked to the left and furry white brows pushed together. Lips pushing out an old man said to himself, “So why do I hang on? Out of love? Yes . . . I love you too much. Out of greed? Oh, yeah, you’re my greedy pleasure.”

“Broccoli, really? I felt so out of place with my hair all messy, but you soothed me with kind and gentle words.” Old Blaine looked up at the wrinkles of a still face. Slowly his eyes shifted until they fell in a picture. “The two of us at prom riding that stupid dinosaur. That was so much fun.”

Resting his head on Kurt’s arm again, an old man felt warmth spreading through his chest pushing the pain back. “Do you recall your reaction when you found the crown of your head getting thin? You would have thought the world had come to and end. What were you, thirty-seven or was it eight, but never mind, I know I laughed, and you did not speak to me for the rest of the week? You were so cute.”

“Maybe I remember so that I can find all those things an aging mind misplaces and carry them to whatever comes next.” The last few words tumbled away as if a train fell from the tracks.

A joy of getting older, memory became another page on the internet to flip past. The scroll bar ran down as if possessed and then he found himself back in the music room where he, and old friends. Grinning, an old man hummed and then began to sing in a low, gravely, barely audible voice.

_He closed his eyes and dreamed,_   
_For a moment the warmth returned,_   
_Beautiful and at peace he sleeps beside me._

_To pine for him, to hold and caress_   
_He had been a friend who shares laughter_   
_Fought a few battles, winning and lost_

_Five decades spent together,_   
_Sharing an enduring love and Intertwining physical contact._   
_We grew into one and making time stand still_

_More than friends and better than family_   
_Love beyond measure filled the heart_   
_The soul calls upon high touching some special place_

_The mists of an endless dream surround him_   
_A lonely smile and a caring embrace_   
_The tear that glistens in the eye when I look at you, my love_

_Five decades spent together,_   
_Sharing an enduring love and Intertwining physical contact._   
_We grew into one and making time stand still_

_You are my water and I am your beach_   
_We walked together into the sun holding hands_   
_Right and left, you fill my heart in so many ways._

_An old man never lost affection_   
_He cherishes the long days of our lives_   
_My heart is yours forever until the end of time_   
_Two hearts have become one until the end of time_   
_Two hearts have become one until the end of time_

A dying man coughed and licks dry lips as he cuddled up against the arm of the man who loved him all his life. Wildly smiling, old man proudly muttered, “Ah, I still have it even if I cracked a few times.”

Squeezing Kurt’s still thumb, images rose in his mind family and many friends gathered on the stage of the venerable Broadhurst Theater for the society party. The next year a loving husband added the song to his last musical winning. “I wrote and sang that for our fiftieth surprising everyone and another Tony made it all the sweeter.”

The mind flipped again, and an old man saw two young men in white suits in a barn. Having rediscovered their love after the devastation of their second breakup, they held hands and bounced on their toes. Slowly walking two giddy young men encountered Burt and Carole. An old man wept at the memory of a fantastic day.

“Hey, guys.” Kurt called out as he dragged a much younger Blaine around the corner. Shoulder to should, holding hands, they basked in their togetherness.

Looking at the cards in his hands Burt said to the two young men. “Hey, what's up, guys? Just going over my notes before my officiating.”

Carole beamed at the two young and freshly reunited lovers she said in an excited tone, “You both look so handsome in your suits.”

“Yes, you do.” Burt smiled at his son and the boyfriends.

“Seems like only yesterday we were getting ready for your guy’s wedding.” The words rolled from Kurt’s mouth with raised eyebrows.

“That was the most beautiful day.” Carole placed a hand on her husband’s arm.

“Best day of my life.” Burt leaned in and kissed Carole with a soft moan.

Grinning Blaine said, “It's crazy to think . . . that we almost followed right in your footsteps.”

Turning to face his parents, Kurt said, “Well, almost, and that would have been a beautiful day, too, but, you know, it just it wasn't meant to be.”

An old man beamed—we almost followed right in your footsteps. He loved those words and the strangeness of the day, thanks to a quirky blond, her feisty bride and the scheming of a troublesome teacher. Blaine virtually stumbled over his tongue trying to grasp at what happened around him. As usual, Kurt got it right off. Sometimes Blaine would be a little too thick to catch on right away.

“I mean, you taught me how to be brave.” Brittany said with a straight face standing between two manikins with pictures of Kurt and Blaine on them. “And when you guys called off your wedding, it just broke my heart. Because it felt like my dream had died, so I want my dream back.”

Pondering what Brittany got at, Blaine questioned, “Okay. I still don't get what you're talking about, though.”

“Yes, you do, just think about it,” Kurt voice had a surprised edge to it.

What followed warmed struggling heart, causing an old man to blush. He moaned in low tones, “I . . . I just . . . What Burt and Carole were talking about earlier, and these last few months without you have been really, I love you, Kurt.”

A tear rolled from an old eye and fell onto a still hand. Lifting his head, old Blaine no longer felt the pain ripping his chest, but the only love of a man he held so dear. “Those words . . . I always loved you Kurt and, yes, it took a crazy woman to push us into each other’s arms. Gods, she infuriated me.”

Setting his lips to the moist spot on his departed husband’s hand, Blaine tasted the salt of his tear and his lover’s skin. “The look on Burt’s face when Sue dragged him into the room to find us half naked and dressing in black. I wish we had a camera because he had that ‘are you kidding’ look on his face. No one said a word as he stood there staring and then he jumped around like a kid. He even kissed Sue. When we stood up there and he whispered to you I felt so nervous I almost lost it. My heart was so full.”

A puzzled look caused a wrinkled face to change. Shaking his head, an old man closed his eye as if he tried to remember. “Why couldn’t I show my joy? A smirk here and a look there but I looked what . . . like I was stoned. Watching the video, you, my handsome Kurt, looked so alive and happy. But I was happy too. Happier than any day of my life. We were doing it, getting married and look where we went together. We found love and made a life where we will not be a footnote on the bottom of some forgotten page.”

An ear pressed down on Kurt’s arms and stared at his long, slender fingers. In his dotage, Kurt remained as thin as ever, but Blaine spread in the center like many older people did. He called himself pudgy, the two men kept toned, well into the sixties and then the cancer hit changing Blaine for the rest of his life. He came out of the hospital so thin and complaining his husband and kids fattened him up for the plate for Christmas day.

Sighing Blaine looked up at Kurt’s face and stared. The electrified pulses in his chest stabilized turning the constant pain into a dull inconvenience. In an enduring tone he said, “I wonder what Mary will think when she gets here. Shock? Lose? Tender love? My right hand will be holding your left, our fingers intertwined, and my head will be resting so I can look up at those wonderful face. What a fine end.”


	32. Walking into the Sunset

Two glasses sparkled in the candlelight when their rims touched making a soft clinking sound. Hazel stared at blue across the table of the bistro in a nondescript part of Lima near the river. The table, two young men occupied looked down the street toward the trees at the far end where the sky turned pink and purple signing the end of another day. Close to two dozen people sat in groups around them chatting quietly and enjoying a fun evening. The young men could not ask for anything else as the savoured a moment of peace, romance and themselves.

Tonight, the excitement involved typical American food such as meat and potatoes. The city of their youth did not compare with the hustle of New York, where a new adventure greeted Blaine with each visit. During his last trip to the huge city, they hit the mark with a Spanish place in the Bronx and a spicy Vietnamese near Central Park. On previous trips Blaine learned to enjoy East Indian as the long as the curry level remained at a low and devoured Ethiopian mostly due to the novel way of eating without utensils. One rambunctious weekend Kurt introduced him to a chocolate café off Fifty-First Street with a huge fountain in the middle. The decadence and depravities the delicious mixtures ended with smooth chocolate dripped over Kurt’s personal lollipop.

Relishing the glint in a lover’s eyes, one side of his Blaine’s cheek lifted in that ever so sexy and guaranteed to get laid half smile. Thanking himself for not being bullish at a wonderful offer from his mom and Kurt’s parents, Blaine basked in the prize across from him. Separation had its frustrations, but when their special weekends rolled around the magic continued and strengthened.

Everything felt perfect as the two used their eyes to play with each other. Now and then fingers would stretch finding each other or a leg came to rest against its opposite. Married three days ago, Kurt and Blaine had come a long way in a short period of time. Their wedding night ended as everyone expected—two lovebirds blissfully happy and unforgivably tired. They got back to the hotel sometime before sunrise and barely slept before the calls started. The internet took the news around the block several times, alerting their family and friends of the happy occasion. Cooper left several messages, the first being somewhat upbeat with the fifth being apologetic and sappy. It prompted a long call on speakerphone filled with laughs. Then came the calls from various aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and friends, some of whom articulated their happy shock.

That afternoon they returned to Lima, two young men nursed hangovers and a raging need to relief certain built up pressures. Dropping Blaine’s mother off turned out to a sorted affair due to the fact Daniel had a bit too much to drink and made his disapproval loudly known. The argument made Kurt very uncomfortable ending when Carole took Pam by the arm and walked her over to the car. She stayed the night at the Hummel’s.

Another side effect of the ride home came as a complete surprise to the newly minted couple—Carole secretly set up an impromptu party. Effervescent wine and the excitement made the newlyweds more than a little giddy and equally worn. Sometime after nine a weary Blaine managed to find himself in the dark corner of the garage with a very delectable man. Lips met, and hands tumbled through clothing and then came an interruption when Kitty and Roderick fell into another’s arms kissing like two rabid beavers. More than a little embarrassed, Blaine took Kurt’s hand and the two silently exited.

A quick lip job before passing out relieved the throbbing tension, but it left neither of them satisfied. The pounding on the door about ten the next day did not help. Sam, Rachel, Marley and Spenser dragged the suffering couple off for brunch and then Sue interruption sent them scurrying to meet Santana and Brittany in the gym. It might have ended one problem, but then the blond wanted to celebrate together every year. Well, that worried the couple.

Sometime around four Kurt finally dragged his husband away from friends saying, in sharp terms, he wanted some alone time. Somewhat embarrassed and having no choice as his husband dragged him out to the car, Blaine happily endured. Half an hour later Blaine held his lover’s arm as they walked along the river where they talked and enjoyed each other’s presence. Eventually, their path took them to a place where reservations awaited them.

“To my adorable Blaine, who swept me off my feet with his charming looks and sexy voice,” Kurt grinned as he pushed his glass into husband’s goblet.

A full smile pulled up the other side of Blaine’s face and he almost blushed. “You’re so sweet, my handsome Kurt. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You were brave enough to take my hand at the bottom of the stairs.”

“The sound of your voice sent a chill up my back.”

“A good one, I hope.”

“The best and now that I have the ring to prove it, you’re all mine.”

“I recall images of twenty five percent off for the rest of your life in your future at one time.”

Laughing, Blaine set his glass to his lips and swallowed a draft of sparkling water with lemon and lime. Still too young to be served alcohol in public, the soft ache behind his right eye reminded him of how much he consumed the past few days.

“Ok, Mr. Myheartsonmysleeve, what?” Kurt’s brows squished together. “I know that look well enough to know the other shoe will drop.”

“There’s no shoe.” Blaine grinned as he played what remained of his soup. “It was such a strange and whimsical day, which still doesn’t seem all that real.”

“And we’re married.”

“Wonderfully so.”

“I would have it no other way.”

“A weekend and they get a month?”

“Oh, now we get down to it. You feel ripped off.”

“Well, no and yes, but I’ll never be ripped off with you around but then―”

“Good save, but stop counting the days, sweetheart,” Kurt put his glass down and took his husband’s hand. “We were the baby bonus.”

“Yeah, right,” Blaine shook his head even as she smiled. “She had the rings and how did she get the license?”

“So, it was a bit of a set up, but we made it.” Kurt’s gave his husband a sideways look. “We’re husband and husband until the end of days and life could not be better.”

“Until the end of days, I like that.” Blaine winked. “It’s funny when I think back―”

“Are we going to rehash that again?” Kurt did not sound enthused as his eyes rolled. With a sigh, he choked down have the liquid in his glass.

Staring into those loving blue eyes, Blaine discerned the hell both of them had been through. Rejection and deep, ripping pain had taken Blaine down the road that led to Kurt’s past tormentor―David. God’s that dream? David? How? Fuck!

Well, David turned out to really nice, but when Blaine thought about it, the whole relationship with the teddy bear seemed surreal. After Kurt returned to Lima, Blaine began to realize that perhaps he had unconsciously been drawn to David because some weird connection to Kurt dwelled there. A changed David no longer picked on people, and, in fact, he went out of his way to be as helpful as humanly possible. When they encountered each other that night in Scandals, David’s compassion surprised Blaine giving him hope a broken heart might heal. Perhaps their shared pain drew them together, but being intimate with David only reminding him of Kurt. Guilt filled him in more than one-way and as time passed Blaine had no idea how to escape the trap of his own making.

He did not regret his weeks with Karofsky, even though something deep down told him it would never have lasted. A tiny tinge of discomfort touched his heart with the thought, but no one knew what fate had in mind until the two sang together at Rachel’s. Meeting at the Lima Bean to talk music, two ex-lovers tossed several songs about only to end up at the music store. Faced with the massive collection, Blaine felt awkward and Kurt could not make up his mind. Finally, they asked the attendant to choose for them and fate had its way. The song surprised both giving Blaine the impression the attendant noticed the hesitant link between the two young men. Resigned to the song, Blaine fears became reality as he belted out the words. The heart grew bigger and bigger until his suppressed emotions exploded resulting in a rash act which changed their history.

Sorrow gripped Blaine and he unintentionally tightened his grip on Kurt’s hand. Staring at the cement, he felt Kurt’s left hand touch his unshaven face. Hazel eyes came up to meet sparkling blue. Both knew where Blaine had gone. Both felt the pain. Both acknowledged their forgiveness. Slowly Blaine leaned his head into the hand pushing Kurt’s fingers into the last rays of sunlight streaming through the window. Light sparked on his ring.

“You’re lost again?” Kurt’s face moved to the left with the motion of his neck.

“Yeah, I guess.” Dark brows squished together. “I was thinking of the non-cheating contract.”

Kurt scratched his chin and glanced up at the ceiling. “Where did I put that?”

“Where you put it after you made me sign it.” Blaine chuckled as then his eyes went hard. He sighed and then looked down at the fingers mixed with his husband.

“Oh, my darling, darling Blaine.” Twisting his head to one side, Kurt suddenly grinned from ear to ear and blew his beloved husband an air kiss.

Moving his head as if he caught it, Blaine smiled and said, “Honestly, I was thinking about David.”

“I know.” Kurt pouted and then added in a soft voice, “Blaine, I don’t fear the past anymore?”

“Neither do I,” Taking both of Kurt’s hands, he pulled them closer across the table and kissed each.

“You know me too well.” Holding his husband’s hand, Kurt rubbed the ring on Blaine’s finger not caring what people might think.

Blushing ever so slightly, Blaine leaned closer and then sighed. Looking a bit sad he continued to stare at their hands.

Smirking, Kurt’s eyes twinkled. “Mom and dad are in Washington and I turned off my phone.”

Perking up, Blaine looked surprised. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Blaine pulled out his phone to find fifteen messages and texts. Making a face, he grumbled, “That reporter is persistent.”

“We can call her tomorrow afternoon. Tonight, is about the two of us and only us.”

Face brightening into a wicked smile, Blaine unintentionally blurted out, “I’m so horny.”

A second hand came to rest on Blaine’s as his husband gave him a worried look. “You and me both.”

“I have to tell you, every time we, you and I, crossed paths my heart would pound in his chest.” Blaine hesitated, and his eyes fluttered. “I found myself lingering following those encounters just to catch a fleeting scent. No matter how I tried, the stark truth haunted me—I loved you. I . . . we . . . fumbled along because of the line drawn that night they met in the bar.”

Squeezing Blaine’s hand, Kurt could not stop himself from grinning. Head bending to one side, he glanced up at his husband with puppy blue eyes. “The message he sent us after our wedding was so sweet. He really did have a thing for you, and I can’t blame him because you’re so cute and impressively all mine.”

“Flattery will make it harder for me to sit up straight.” Blaine beamed. “Have I told you today, I love you so much?’

“At least once.” Kurt impishly grinned.

A single eyebrow went up and then Blaine shook his head. “Well, I am going to have to do something about that and yes, I hope everything works out for David.”

“You’re such a softy, my Mr. Gushyromantic.” Squinty blue eyes stared into hazel. “It’s one of the things I really love about you. As for David, he’ll get a few numbers slipped into his pocket.”

“He told me someone tried to slip him a number at the football game after our fateful kiss.” Chuckling Blaine tapped Kurt’s ring finger. “There was something about him which drives people to distraction.”

“Really?” Kurt looked puzzled and then his brows pushed together.

Blaine winked with a small smirk meant to amuse his husband. “You make me wild in all right ways.”

“You say all the best things.” Warmly smiling, Kurt stroked the hair on his husband’s forearm.

Cheeks reddening, Blaine smiled as he bashfully looked down. “And you’re my everything.”

“Give me time and I’ll show you want my everything can do.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You know I have to thank you for the care you took when I first moved in New York.”

“It almost smothered me and led to another. . . disagreement.”

“I’m so sorry about that and not because of the fighting, but because I was too blind to see it. I just wanted to catch up with all the time we had lost. As I said that day, I felt unhappy about who I was, and it stemmed from fear I would never catch up.”

“Oh, Blaine, we survived and now we can flourish. I wish you would stop brooding about what was but, then, I know you process things in a different way than I do. Just promise me not to bring it up at your twenty fifth anniversary.”

“I’m sure it’ll be settled by then.” Playfully swatting his husband, Blaine could not stop himself from smiling.

“Do you remember when we went to the Boiler Room?”

“I was so nervous. It was my first night in New York as live-in couple.”

“You didn’t need to be, but it is one of those enduring things I like about you. You can be such an honest and oh so charming man, Blaine Anderson-Hummel.”

“When he gave us the once over because of our ID, I freaked me out.”

“Jason did a better job than―” Kurt’s nose curled up. “Sebastian.”

A shudder ran down Blaine’s back. “I’ve never seen so many people on a dance floor. But then you were so adorable I had to hold you all night.”

“It was fun, and you took your shirt off with no Tina about to take pictures.”

“I did it for you . . . and myself. It helped with the fear.”

“And aroused the locals.”

“I only wanted to arouse one person and I succeeded.” Blaine blushed and then shook his head. “I still can’t believe she posted that.”

“It shocked me and made me really miss you, you sexy beast.”

“But we were . . . no, let’s not go there.”

“I was happy when you moved to New York.”

“But then, I got all clingy, depressed and fat.”

“Your little love handles gave me something to hang onto.”

“Ha ha.”

“We learned.”

“I ate my denial.”

“I should have recognized you were struggling. I’m sorry.”

“I should have been strong enough to see it for myself.”

“We’re young Blaine, but now it feels as if we have come out the other end more in love than ever.”

“I love you, so much, dearest,” Blaine touched Kurt’s ring and smiled a soft, meaningful smile. “Yes, the past is the past. Live and learn.”

Kurt nodded.

“We can’t always be the teenagers we would like to be.” Blaine went on without a pause. “Relationships and marriage takes compromise and understanding filled with emotion and longing. I proclaimed I am a work in progress to all to hear and by the sharing of rings I will walk beside you until the last curtain falls.”

Beaming, Kurt leaned closer, placing both hands on Blaine's, “I could just kiss you.”

“Why don’t you?” Blaine smirked, and his cheeks flushed red as imaged of standing on a dark sidewalk flashed in his mind.

Pushing his chair back, Kurt stood and stepped closer, moving taking the piece of furniture with him. Putting it gently down, he sat so his knee pressed against his husband. Staring for a few seconds, he then leaned in and kissed Blaine squarely on the lips knowing people watched and made faces. Blaine’s heart rose in his throat, hoping it would never end. The excitement of marriage still held them, but what would the future bring? Two and a half weeks ago, the two kissed and made up in an apartment crowded with packing materials. Physical need trumped everything at the time, but the two men made the time for serious conversations.

Backing away an inch, Kurt smiled and then said, “Are you happy now.”

“At this moment I could burst into song.”

“Which one?”

“Baby It's Cold Outside, but I think I would change the words to say, baby it’s hot in here.”

“I dare you?”

“And our audience?”

Kurt sighed and glanced about noting the older couple at the nearest table trying not to look as if they watched. In the background a man in his early forties hastily called for the check as his wife got the kids together. Off by the window three young girls snickered to themselves, not even trying to hide their eavesdropping. Two young men, obviously on a double date, looked uncomfortable while their girlfriends exchanged curious looks. A woman in his late twenty sitting by himself near the window raised her glass to the couple and nodded. Others might have noticed, but their evenings moved on as if their show of affection meant little.

Looking into Blaine’s heavenly eyes, Kurt pronounced, “I love you too much to care.”

“Oh, you care.” One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up.

“Yeah, I do.” Sitting up straight, Kurt whispered. “I think we got a win win on our hands.”

Picking up his glass, Blaine held it up. “A win win.”

Lightly touching his goblet to Blaine’s, Kurt smiled. “As you told me once, we’ve both won.”

“Yes, we did and I don’t want to go back.” Blaine’s eyes smiled at his husband and then he took a sip. “Do you remember Bogart’s? It was the nicest place I could afford at the time and I so desperately wanted to woo you.”

Making a face Kurt commented, “Woo me?”

“You know, impress, romance, and make you feel loved.”

“Yeah, and the waiter had a great butt.”

“Yes, he did.”

“Blaine, yes, the eyes might wonder, but I wanted only one thing at the time and the damned table got in the way.”

“I loved playing that little game. Are we playing now?”

“No.”

“You want to play?”

“Later.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Blaine took a sip of his drink. “Are we going out dancing afterwards?”

“We could go to Scandals if you want.”

“I think I would rather spend the time exploring.” Suddenly smiling Blaine chuckled.

Sitting up straight, Kurt whispered, “What?”

“Scandals can be fun, but a little old. Thank god New York has a place where us twinks can go.”

“Twenty-one is too far away.”

“You’re closer than I am.”

“Listen to your elders then.” Kurt wiggle a finger in front of Blaine’s nose.

Licking the errand digit, Blaine grinned and then said, “Pat and Stan were in good form that night. They kind of remind me of us when I was a junior. How old were they anyhow?”

“Fifteen or sixteen?” Kurt frowned. “Pat had a birthday since then.”

“How did you meet them, at one of those drag parties?”

“Are you saying I was a queen?” Kurt placed his free hand on his chest feigning indignity.

Flustered by the comment, Blaine blinked and then waved his hands in front of him. “No, no.”

A mischievous smile spread Kurt’s lips. “Oh, my dear Blaine, you will always be my king and I’ll be your Goldie, but never a queen.”

Both men laughed and then Blaine quietly said, “We danced until the sun came up.”

“And we did other things until the sun went down.”

“I wish Rachel would have been quieter that evening. I really needed some sleep.”

“Yelling at her did not help.”

“No, but it allowed me to get an hours sleep before the place got invaded. I had no idea she knew so many people.”

“There’s a party network at NYADA. She just called one eight hundred let’s get drunk.”

“I never pictured her as being . . . vengeful.”

“I thought you knew her?” Kurt made a face. “She just doesn’t like being yelled at. Mind you, you weren’t around for Fanny. Now that was a full-blown diva pain in the butt.”

One eyebrow going up and Blaine impishly grinned. “I was so tired it all went to my head.”

Giggling Kurt gave his husband a ‘really’ look and then proudly pointed out, “You’re easy on women when you are drunk.”

“Me?” Blaine sat back with a surprised look on his face even though he remembered Rachel’s party, the debacle at Scandals and long evenings during two painful breakups. He liked the taste and the effect of booze, but then he did not like the changes it made in him. Having lost his inhibitions several times for different reasons, Blaine realized he could do something terribly stupid when drunk. “What about the second weekend I came to visit. I haven’t heard you throw up like that since you had the flu at Dalton.”

Lips pressed tightly together, Kurt shook his head and then he looked up to see the thirty-something waiter approaching with two steaming plates. Placing them on the table, the short haired blond man picked up the soup bowls and spun around without at much as a word. Narrow eyes provided proof of Kurt’s irritation.

“Don’t sweat it, darling,” Blaine patted his husband’s hand. “We’re headed for somewhere where we can hold hands walking down the street and kiss in the park.”

“I can’t wait to get our lives started.” Kurt shone and then glanced down at the chicken dish with a melody of vegetable and potato. Blaine asked for steak.

“We’re not going to live at the loft, are we?”

“At least until we find a place we can afford.”

“I’ll need to find a job and then looked at NYU.”

“You could go back to NYADA with me.”

Blaine’s lips pressed from side to side as he cut into his meat. With a sigh, he said, “I can try, but I don’t know it, they would want me back.”

“Rachel’s going to try.” Kurt gave his husband sympathetic look and then popped some chicken into his mouth.

“For you, I’ll give it a try, but fewer classes together.” Blaine gazed at the steak stuck to his fork. “I don’t want to crowd you.”

“We’re walking into the sunlight together and I want to be greedy.” An evil grin spread Kurt’s lips and then he glanced toward the colourful sky.


	33. A Get Away Part 1

The trip to Provincetown became a wonderful mix of sleeping on planes and playful banter between two excited newlyweds. Nothing could ruin their mood, not even a mad rush to catch their connection in New York. They watched the narrow street of Provincetown go by with wide eyes as their taxi worked its way toward their destination. Arrayed about them stood the marvels of one of North America’s premiere gay playgrounds and it excited and frightened. Even on a chilly Atlantic afternoon, the profusion of fine male specimens spoke loudly of acceptance.

Bright eyed and full of the bliss from their surprise nuptials, two young men walked up to the gate and stopped. Before them stood a modest house of old-world charm modernized to suit the times. Crystal clear windows glistened in the sun and the building shown with bright paint. The curving walkway led through a well-kept garden showing the first signs marking the change of seasons. The knock on the door wiped away any sense of euphoria both men enjoyed. The man with graying temples and a full beard raised an eyebrow as he turned the contents of the envelope over in his hand.

Blue turned hazel as stunned eyes locked on each other. A sense of dread raced up Blaine’s back and he found himself squeezing Kurt’s hand tightly.

With an odd look on his face the man at do door drew in a deep breath. Eyes moving between the two young men in front of him, he said, “Unfortunately, I know nothing of this and Andrew’s in Miami.”

Kurt’s face fell, and Blaine bit his upper lip and then sighed. Looking to his husband, Blaine swallowed and then turned his attention back to Andrew’s partner Aaron. With flushed skin he said in a soft tone, “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

The hand in encompassed by Blaine’s shook and a head topped with gelled down curls fell. Closing his eyes for a second, Blaine shrugged and then looked up at Aaron. Picking up his bag, he tugged on his lover’s hand to get him to turn about. Slowly two dejected young men walked toward the street as Blaine gently stroking Kurt’s hand. He knew his husband well enough to know they shared the same pain. Kurt caught his breath in little spurts as if he fought with deep emotion and in response Blaine bumped shoulders into him in a futile act of reassurance. Tears well up the first time he heard Kurt sniffle. The anger rolling through his chest—Christ! Damned Sue!

Kurt must have heard his husband thought as he pulled on the hand he held. Glancing that way, Blaine fought to hold back his own tears. An awful sinking sensation deep in the pit of his stomach. Biting his lip all he desperately wanted draw Kurt into a hug and let their disappointment flow.

Just beyond the gate, Kurt suddenly turned and grabbed onto Blaine sending their bags to the ground. His beautiful face sagging from the sorrow wallowing in his heart as he buried his head into his husband’s shoulder allowing a sob to escape his lips. Water dripping from his eyes, Blaine leaned his head against his distraught husband holding him tight.

“Hey,” Aaron from the stoop.

The two lovers turned about to see Aaron standing in the threshold with furrowed brow and a frown.

With his hand, Aaron suggested the two of come back. “Let me call Andrew.”

Tried to keep his feelings in check, Kurt let his husband go. With a trail of moisture running down his cheek, he said in a low voice. “Thank you, but we can find a bed and breakfast or something.”

“Come, on boys, I can see this means a lot to you.” Aaron’s expression softened. “Weekends are busy here and you may have trouble finding a place. I don’t know much about this Sue Sylvester but Andrew has spoken of her from time to time. He tells me she can be a bit of a character.”

“That’s an understatement,” Kurt growled.

Giving his husband a look, Blaine added, “Thank you, Aaron, but you don’t need to.”

“Stop arguing with me and get in here.” Aaron’s voice hardened as waved them to the door. “This won’t take long.”

Looking at each other, they both smiled and walked up to the door. Standing on the stoop, Blaine again said, “Thank you, but you don’t have to.”

“Leave your bags by the door and we can go into the living room.” Aaron stepped aside and beckoned them to step in. “That invitation said you had just gotten married.”

“Last weekend and it’s a bit of a story,” Blaine replies with a weak smile. Holding Kurt’s hand, he shrugged and picked both their bags with one hand. A moment later, the same bags came to rest on top of each other against the wall. Taking off their shoes, Kurt and Blaine padded into the delightful bright living room filled with leather seating, comfortable pillows and modernized Victorian charm. Sitting straight backed and side by side on the couch they waited.

“Let me make a call.” Aaron smiled at his two young guests taking the envelope before passing through the arch into the dining room.

Watching the older man leave, Blaine let out a heavy sigh and collapsed in against Kurt. Wanting to swear, his body shook. Taking a couple of seconds to catch his breath, he said in a silent voice, “How could we have been so stupid to trust Sue.”

Folding an arm about his husband, Kurt understood all too well, but wanted to keep it upbeat. “She got us to the altar.”

“By hook and crook.” A tear glistened in Blaine’s eyes. “I was really looking forward to this.”

“So was I but I guess we have better start looking for somewhere to sleep.” Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket and an pulled up a browser. “We can see if there is a room available at the Eight Dryer?”

“It will be all full up,” Aaron called from beyond the dining room. “They’re getting Andrew for me.”

“Thanks, Aaron,” Blaine responded and then turned to Kurt. “What are we going to do?”

“Wonder if they have a Y here?” Kurt swiped down the pages of Provincetown accommodations.

“Not exactly the place I wanted to spend my honeymoon,” Blaine pouted and then looked to the door Aaron had passed through where host talked to someone explaining the circumstances.

“I’m just happy we get to enjoy a honeymoon.”

“Me too, but not like this.”

“When we get back to Lima, I’m going to have words with her.”

“Let’s not get all fatalistic, just yet, dear.”

Flopping back on the plush couch, Kurt rolled his eyes and then looked down at the rug. Pulling Blaine closer he rested his hand on his husband’s shoulder. With gently ease, Blaine leaned in stroking Kurt’s hand and looked toward the dining room beyond the door. Aaron paced back and forth in the kitchen on the far side with a phone to his ear. Animated motions suggested the conversation had some heat to it.

“Land’s End has a room available.” Kurt perked up and then his face fell. “But it’ll break the bank.”

“We’re not exactly in the off-season.” Blaine mumbled. “And we really do not have much of a choice.”

“We can phone my dad.”

“Our parents have forked out enough to stretch this into a full week.”

“I now―”

“Don’t cry, my sweet.”

“Speak for yourself, I see the watery streaks on your cheeks.”

“I feel so . . . I don’t know . . . disappointed.”

“Embarrassed fits”

Movement in the kitchen caught Blaine’s attention where Aaron continued to pace. Suddenly he turned toward the dining room headed in their direction. Two young men sat up straight and clasped their hands together watching with anticipation pounding in their chests.

“Good news, you can have the cabana house.” Aaron said with an edge to his voice. “The bad news is, you will have to be out by four on Sunday. I’m going to Miami to meet Andrew, who is less than pleased.”

Holding one hand up, Blaine apologized, “We do not want to cause trouble. We found a room at the Land’s End.”

Shaking his head, Aaron smiled, a charming smile. “No, please, Andrew and I would like you to stay. He’s a bit pissed off, but it has nothing to do with you.”

“Sue?” the boys said together.

Nodding, Aaron went on, “He is kind of busy, but he would like to meet the two of you to offer his congratulations. He’s going to Skype in about six, so you might as well come for dinner. Now let’s show you the cabana house. It’s a little small but it’s nice.”

The boys looked at other with straight faces and then suddenly smiled.

Aaron turned out to be a marvelous cook and a delight considering their introduction. Blaine and Kurt offered to help but he would not hear anything about it. He asked all sorts of questions while they waited for his partner to call in. When Andrew finally popped onto the screen the three of them sat at the table enjoying a fresh salad with chicken and vegetable side dishes. Aaron introduced them and being a no-nonsense kind of person, Andrew asked several pointed questions. Over the next three hours the boys enjoyed a comical glimpse of a conservative life both might disagree with. It soon became evident he did not have a good opinion of Madam Sylvester. Laughing at the rambunctious antics of their former teacher and royal pain in the butt, time flew by. The boys helped Aaron clean up with Andrew multitasking on the other end while chatting.

As the sun began to sink into the west, the boys excused themselves, allowing Aaron to have his life back. Flopping down on a queen-sized bed with a foot and a few inches around it to maneuver, they looked at one another for the longest time happily smiling.

 

Lying there nose to nose like they had the first time they slept together the happiness they felt drove the anguish they suffered a few hours ago away. Right hand in left the gently fell asleep. The chill roused them after midnight when they curled up under the duvet kissing for a while before drifting off again. When the sun poked through the curtains, the boys awoke in a very intimate manner and tender lovemaking took over. In the middle of the morning they ran into Aaron puttering about in the yard clipping foliage. Stopping to chat for a few moments, the two walked away hand in hand to begin a new adventure. A little over two hours later they returned needing to relieve a very serious itch. At nightfall they lounged on the bed naked and in each other’s arms happily sated.

Sunday morning and nothing could be better than lying in bed with his newly minted husband. Long rays of sunshine passed through the beveled panes and splashed across the bed. Feet scrunched up as Blaine stretched even though the arms draped across his chest held him down. Smiling a husband did not care as dreamy hazel eyes stared at the tuft of messy hair below the chin. Loving this moment, he just lay there smelling the combination of sweat ignited by guttural pig sex lost with the aroma of Kurt’s signature shampoo. Love wrapped his heart in a cashmere blanket of contentment. Nothing could better than lying here with his hand resting on a naked back. He waited for the telltale signs of Kurt waking in the morning. He smiled at the way his lover twitched in that adorable way and the flexing of his nimble fingers. Everything about the stunning man mesmerized him.

Legs flexed releasing the morning stiffness and then Kurt failed to stifle a yawn. Slowly a finger made gentle circles against the hair of Blaine’s thigh. “Good morning, my love.”

Running a hand through the waves of untidy hair, Blaine whispered, “Happy beginning of the day to you as well, my darling husband.”

“I can get used to being called darling.”

“And many other words, of endearment.”

“No, just two. Darling when you are hopelessly taken with me and Kurt for those mundane times.”

“You’ve been watching Jane Austin again.”

“Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong era.”

“Back then we wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Oh, right, I take that back.”

Laughing, Blaine cradled his waking husband in his arms.

“I am still in awe of all this,” Kurt said in a soft sleepy voice. Head resting on his husband's chest enjoyed the heat and the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“It’s been wonderful, but this part ends today.”

“I’m sure the hotel will be just as good.”

“We should have gotten that bed and breakfast, leaving Aaron alone. He’s been nice, but I can’t help but feel we have intruded.”

“And pay three hundred and ninety dollars a night, forget it, but―”

“But?”

“This butt,” Kurt playfully reached down between his lover’s legs and pinched a cheek.

A huge smile bloomed on Blaine’s face as he squirmed and began to wrestle with darling Kurt. Rolling over each other Kurt eventually ended up on top, pinning his grinning husband to the bed. Leaning in and kissing the man he adored.

Grinning from ear to ear, Blaine softly said, “All care about it being with you.”

“You’re so full of it.” Kurt licked the tip of Blaine’s nose.

Giggling and turning his head, Blaine hugged Kurt with all his strength until he made that adorable look of surrender. The two snuggled against up as Blaine enjoyed the feeling of fingers lightly tracing images in the region just above Blaine’s pubic hair. The curly headed man gave up shaving his chest after Kurt crashed through his door to confess his undying love among piles of packing boxes. Confused by Kurt seeing an older man and his split from David, Blaine had let himself go. During the best make up sex ever, Blaine discovered the depths to which Kurt enjoyed the fine hairs of his chest carpet.

Blaine felt Kurt smile against his rising stomach. Absently stroking the side of his husband’s face, he felt the five o’clock shadow growing there. In a soft tone, Blaine said, “I wonder what it cost Sue―”

“Right now, I really don’t care about Sue.” Kurt cut his husband off.

Pouting, Blaine regretted his choice of words. “We need to pick Aaron up a little something this afternoon to say thanks before we switch over to the hotel.”

“There’s something called a tea dance going on at on down by the beach.”

“What does that have to do with picking Aaron up something?”

“Nothing but it might be fun.”

“I’m going to be avaricious and keep you all to myself and not share with a bunch of horny men who will gobble you up like a delectable dessert. Besides, we’re both underage.”

“Oh? I guess that means you’ll have you gobble me up.”

“Is there anything left down there?”

“We can find out.”

“We've been in this bed for almost a day and a half now minus a short walk to the store last night.”

“Yeah, warming up was interesting.”

“You're always fun in the sack.”

“Ask me again in twenty years, but, yes, I'm a little saddle sore. We’ve barely seen anything, and your fine butt hair doesn’t count.” Kurt shifted so he could stare into his husband's eyes and then he let out a long sigh. “And yes, we’re intruding.”

“He’s been exceptional,” Blaine stated drawing his fingers lightly across Kurt’s bicep.

Placing a hand firmly on Blaine’s stomach, Kurt pushed himself to an upright position while his husband expelled a puff of air. Smiling at his sweet husband, Kurt said, “Let’s make a day of it and be stupid lovey dovey.”

“Right. We clean up and walk into town and find somewhere for breakfast and then see where our feet will take us.”

“Then we can ship over to the hotel for the rest of the week.”

“We need to find something for our parents to say thanks.”

“I think they’re happy enough to see us together at last.”

“Your dad certainly is. My dad, well, I don’t think he will ever come around.”

Leaning closer, Kurt kissed his husband. “Time heals all wounds, my dear.”

“But it doesn’t get us in the shower any quicker.” Blaine returned the kiss and then fondly smiled.

Rolling to the edge of the bed, Kurt stared out the windows at the glistening bay and then suddenly jumped to his feet. Trotting over to the bedroom door, he paused and then held his hand out. Slipping from the bed with a grin, Blaine sauntered over with a sexy walk taking the hand. Just over an hour later, two newlyweds stepped out into the wild garden surrounded the cabana house holding hands. After locking the door, they looked around and then strolled down the path toward the gate at the edge of the road.

Turning right onto the road they swung their arms and bumped shoulders now and then as they walked down the street. The wind off the ocean had a chill to it, forcing Blaine to wear a jacket and Kurt one of his trendy sweaters. Most of Provincetown slept off the hanger over from the night before, but that did not prevent the occasional car from forcing them comfortably closer to each other.

Turning a corner onto an avenue flanked by brightly colored houses surrounded by fences and hedges, Kurt pulled Blaine’s hand up to his lips and set moist lips on chilled skin. In turn, Blaine playfully nudged his lover and started to sing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6vqtFk98NA)

_There are places I'll remember_  
_All my life, though some have changed_  
_Some for ever not for better_  
_Some have gone and some remain_

Kurt suddenly stopped and stared at Blaine with a tear in his eyes. Pouting for a second, his lips curled up into an affectionate smile. The sight warmed Blaine because he chose the song on purpose. Days before Kurt graduated from high school, he and the other juniors from the New Directions sang this song.

_All these places have their moments_  
_With lovers and friends I still can recall_  
_Some are dead and some are living_  
_In my life I've loved them all_

_But of all these friends and lovers_  
_There is no one compares with you_  
_And these memories lose their meaning_  
_When I think of love as something new_

A man yelled down at two young lovebirds from a second story window telling them to keep it down. Chuckling, they jogged along singing until the man’s shrill voice vanished into the distance.

_Though I know I'll never lose affection_  
_For people and things that went before_  
_I know I'll often stop and think about them_  
_In my life, I love you more_

_Though I know I'll never lose affection_  
_For people and things that went before_  
_I know I'll often stop and think about them_  
_In my life I love you more_  
_In my life I love you more_

Drawing Blaine around a street corner, Kurt drew him into a warm hug. Locking lips, they held onto each other and then started to laugh. Taking Blaine’s right hand, Kurt pulled him down the street at a half jog laughing all the way.

A block later they pulled and wrapped their arms about themselves again. Holding on a little bit longer than expected Blaine knew something bothered his spouse. With the first hint Kurt started to relax, he softly asked, “What is it, my love?”

Pulling back so he could see into his husband’s gorgeous eyes, Kurt said, “I remember your face as if it were yesterday, but you sang that for Finn.”

Nodding, Blaine stroked Kurt’s face and pulled the man he loved close again. “You wanted your brother to be his best man and today, I wanted to bring a little bit of Finn into our celebrations.”

“Oh, Blaine.” Kurt threw himself at his husband burying his head in his shoulder.

Drawing in a deep breath, Blaine felt his heart pinch. Gently lifting Kurt’s head. In a low voice he apologized, “I didn’t mean to stir up old pain.”

“No, no. It’s beautiful memory and one I want to cherish all my life.” Kurt kissed Blaine on the cheek. “Finn left a mark on all of us.”

Starting to walk again, Blaine wrapped his right arm about Kurt’s left. “That he did.”

“I felt him the day we were wed. He never gave up on us and would tell me how stupid I had been. Before he died, he told me to get you back, Blaine.”

“I wish he had been alive to see that day.”

“So, do I.”

“The look on his face would have been priceless. I walked down the aisle behind you, and I could see the everyone’s expressions. Most looked confused, but then what was about to happen dawned on them. It was humorous.”

“You looked so . . . sexy on Santana’s arm. My heart beat in my throat and I just wanted to jump for joy and get it over with, so I could kiss you.”

“I love you, my Kurt and remember when we are parted, my heart will always be yours.”

“I don’t want to be parted like that again.”

“Neither do I.”

“What about this place,” Kurt tugged on Blaine to get him to stop in front of a building which looked as if it could have been built in the early nineteen hundreds. Painted pale white-yellow on the second floor and gray at street level, a glassed display held a menu.

Blaine stepped closer to the menu. “Tin Pan Alley? Aaron said the food is great?”

“Opens in an hour and forty-five minutes.”

“We can take a walk out on the pier, do a little shopping and come back.”

“Okay, but I need a coffee.”

Two hours later Blaine dropped three bags on the bench as he slid down onto the soft padding. Pulling out the chair on the other side of the table, Kurt sat and place two bags on the floor. Holding his hand out Blaine signaled he should hand them over. Passing them to his husband, Kurt rubbed a finger across Blaine’s skin with a smile. Blaine blew him a kiss as he piled them on top of the others.

The interior of the restaurant did not match the old exterior. Airy, long and narrow, a banquette ran down one wall with evenly spaced tables matched with a single chair. Tables set for two made a lane down the center and booths for four lined the other wall. Numerous skylights allowed the sun to rain down through the baby blue ceiling held up by stark white truces. Stairs went up to a second floor and at the back of the building a bar and patio looked through the tall grasses toward the water.

A tall, slender man wearing an apron and tight white shirt sporting prominent stomach muscles and a firm chest walked up to them with a bright smile. In his mid twenties, his rugged good looks would have pleased most people, but the table’s occupants had eyes only for each other. The boys ordered, pops and then the waiter mentioned something about no one checked identifications. Looking at each other, they ordered a bottle of sparkling wine, which arrived disguised as something else. Impressed, the server nodded and trotted off. Later, Kurt added spicy tuna tartare to share, followed by clam chowder and a bacon, lettuce, avocado and tomato sandwich. Blaine settled for a Tuscan salad and turkey meatloaf.

Holding hands over the table they talked and watched the place fill up. Some sat by the window, but a great multitude vanished into the back where the volume slowly rose. Unconcerned by the growing lunch crowd, two lovebirds spoke in low tones about their hopes and dreams. Soup and salad came and went followed by the main course. Stopping to top up their glasses the waiter complimented them on their bright new wedding rings.

“Excuse me,” a man who looked to be in his fifties sitting alone at the table beside them interrupted. Wearing a bright red sweater with buttons and a collar rolled up at the back of his neck and crisp slacks, two large, sparkling rings adorned each hand. “Did I hear it right, you two just got married?”

“Yes,” Blaine grinned at the gentleman while rubbing Kurt’s fingers.

“Congratulations.” He raised his glass of deep red wine with a large, charming smile.

Picking up their glasses, Kurt and Blaine nodded and said at the same time, “Thank you.”

“It’s fantastic to finally have the right.” The older man paused and looked at them a little bit more closely. “You two were singing this morning on the street.”

Two young men exchanged glances.

Shaking his head, the gentleman said, “No, I wasn’t the one who yelled at you. He has the room beside mine. The boorish man drinks too much.”

Relieved, Blaine and Kurt smiled. “Yes, that was us.”

“That was a pleasant way to wake this morning other than the jerk beside me,” the older man added and then his expression changed, and he offered a hand. “Oh, how rude of me, I’m Charles Sinclair.”


	34. A Get Away Part 2

  
“Would you like to dance?” a short, stocky man in his mid-twenties yelled over the music at Kurt. He leered over dark rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose obscuring gray-blue eyes and heavy dark brown brows. Tight jeans left little to the imagination and his dark brown polo shirt revealed an athletic form.

Shocked by the abrupt invitation and the spittle on his cheek, Kurt glanced at Blaine sitting next him. Eyebrows going up, he looked at his husband with an ‘I did nothing’ expression. Lethargic from a good dinner one sat on a stool and the other leaned against a narrow counter watching the dance floor. For the past two days they had been exploring Provincetown by day, but this evening they decided to test out their fake identification and take in the nightlife.

Tilting his head to one side, Blaine returned a sideways grin and shifted the leg, which rubbed against the back of Kurt’s calf. Before they could say anything, the interloper grabbed Kurt by the arm and pulled him toward the dance floor a few feet away. Stunned by the forwardness of the man, Kurt tried to free himself from a firm grip as he stumbled onto the crowded dance floor.

Pushing himself off the stool, Blaine took a step but stopped when a hand fell on his shoulder pulling him around. Surprised, he opened and closed the eyes and then looked up at the six foot something tall, skinny man towering over him. Waves of stark blond, obviously dyed hair cut short on the sides and spiked on top, elongated the man’s unshaven face. Tanned and handsome, the stranger stared at Blaine with mischief filled large green eyes. Wearing a form fitting tank top, taunt muscles glistened under the light blaring down from overhead.

“Excuse me?” Blaine faltered on his words as hazel eyes darted about as he tried to back away and turn at the same time. In an instant a strange strangling sensation rose in his chest. What happened to Kurt?

Grasping Blaine’s other shoulder with his free hand, the fellow in his late twenties boldly stated, “My name is Scott and you are?”

Tossing the hand from one shoulder, Blaine tried to maneuver around Scott. A hand noisily struck the counter trapping the shorter man in the corner. Standing as all a he could, Blaine stared up at the overly forward man, “Do you mind?”

Staring with an arrogant smile, Scott licked his lips and leaned closer while continuing to block any avenue of escape. The smell of alcohol assaulted Blaine making him pull away. Draping himself over the ledge, Scott smirked and said, “I’ll buy you a drink and we can get to know each other?”

More than a little upset, Blaine gazed past the taller man into the crowded dance searching for Kurt. Over a hundred bodies pranced under the flashing lights to the loud music. Some wore pants and shirts or sweaters while others dressed as if the chill air blowing off the Atlantic did not make a difference. Moving from side to side, the tall man blocked Blaine’s every move. Growing angrier with every minute his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

“My you’re a feisty one,” Scott stepped into Blaine as his fingers lightly played down the exposed skin of a bare forearm.

Falling back against the wall, Blaine growled, “If you would excuse me, I’m going to find my husband.”

Laughing as if he had not heard, Scott said, “Now what about that drink and then we can slip off to somewhere a little quieter.”

Red faced, Blaine thrust two hands into Scott’s chest, forcing him to step back and then moved to get around him. Grabbing an arm, the tall blond tugged at Blaine and the smaller man lost his balance. Tumbling against the counter Scott pressed his advantage.

“Why don’t you just fuck off and get out of my way!” Blaine growled at him as he shoved him again with a balled-up fist. People around them turned to look.

Scott straightened up to his full height. “Woo, woo, all I wanted to do was to buy you a drink?”

“I know what you want and you’re not getting it from me.” Blaine tried to push by him again.

“Fuck, you’re a rude little sh―” Scott shoved his palm into Blaine chest and then abruptly jumped when a hand fell on his arm from behind.

Caught off guard, Blaine took advantage of the interruption and squirmed out of the corner and away from the interloper. Facing the wall, he heard Scott’s voice rose an octave, but found himself being called down by a deeper tone. A few choice words echoed in Blaine’s ears, but he did not care as he made an escape. Turning on one heel toward the dance floor worried eyes scanned the mass of humanity for signs of his husband.

Suddenly, spread fingers pushed into the space between Blaine’s shoulder blades maneuvering him away. Muscles tensing, he spun around ready to let Scott have it and pulled up short. Surprised, Blaine exclaimed, “Charles!”

The man the young couple met two days ago smiled and then yelled over the music, “Now that you’re free of that creature, let's wade into this mess and find Kurt.”

“You saw?” Blaine stammered.

Nodding, Charles tapped Blaine on the arm and directed him toward the dance floor. Following the older man, hazel eyes darting all about for any sign of his darling Kurt. Sweaty flesh from shirtless Adonis’s pressed in on him as he wormed into the crowd. No one cared that the man with the gelled down hair became a little more frantic with every passing second. Lost in the music and helped along by too much drink or narcotics, the mass of maleness bouncing up all about blocking Blaine’s view. Calling out for Kurt did no good because of the volume pounding into his ears. At points Blaine rose up onto his toes attempting to get a better view. Becoming lost within his fears, minutes felt like hours.

The pressure of a hand on his shoulder caused Blaine to jump. Whirling around, he expected Scott but found Charles pointed in the opposite direction. Squishing between two rather handsome shirtless men with huge chests and eight packs Blaine moved through the crowd until someone crashed into him from his blind side. Arms enveloped him and then lips pressed against his face, followed by a familiar scent. Heat rising in his chest, he pulled the man he loved into a tight hug. A head fell on his shoulder, making him feel safe and content.

Gripping both men on the shoulder, Charles leaned in and yelled, “Come on, let's leave this den of iniquity.”

Glancing up, Kurt’s brow pushed up when he noticed Charles hovering over him. Blue orbs went to Blaine where he saw that look on his husband’s face. Hazel eyes squinted and went to Charles and then Kurt suddenly smiled, and his head smashed onto his husband’s shoulder. Not willing to let Kurt go again, Blaine slipped his right hand into Kurt’s left and tugged him through the masses. When they finally escaped the crush, Kurt wrapped an arm over Blaine’s shoulder pulled him close. Clasping hands, Blaine leaned against his husband’s cheek with a loving smile.

 

“You alright?” Kurt breathlessly asked Blaine as he held on for dear life.

“I am, now.” Stroking Kurt’s back, Blaine felt his lover’s relief. Looking less panics, the pounding in his chest settled back to normal. “I was so worried.”

“So was I.” Kurt stopped when he finally noticed looking back at the dance floor with a haggard look on his face.

The older gentlemen must have noticed because he turned to face the young couple. Raising his voice over the music, Charles suggested, “Come on, time to leave.”

Clutching onto each other, Kurt and Blaine stopped to pick up their jackets. Stepping out into the street, cold sea air blasted them in the face invigorating the three of them. People walked up and down the strip between the various bars and restaurants in groups and singles. Two lusty men leaned against the side of the building across the street kissing while three women ran by laughing at the top of their lungs. A sixty-year old couple strolled by holding hands and speaking softly to each other.

Turning to the right, Blaine took a few steps and then drew Kurt into his arms, planting a firm kiss on his lips as if he marked his lover. Without hesitation, Kurt threw himself into the embrace and his racing heart synchronized with his husbands. Withdrawing, he rested his head on Blaine’s and let out a soft sigh.

“I’m here, my love,” Blaine softly purred as he held the dear man as if weeks had passed since they last saw each other.

“What the―” Kurt bit his tongue and sighed again. Squeezing his lover tighter, he found solace in the comfort of those adoring hazel eyes.

“It’s okay now,” Blaine whispered to his husband before looking to Charles with a look of pure admiration.

“Come on, boys, let's go find a place to grab a drink. I know I can use on, and I think you could too.” Charles tapped both on the shoulder with a charming smile. “The Shipwreck is a taxi ride away. I’ll buy.”

Quickly kissing his husband again, Blaine looked to Charles. “Thank you for coming to my . . . our rescue.”

Kurt gave Blaine a fondly odd look.

Shaking his head, Charles began to walk. “I don’t know if things are better now with all the freedoms we queers have. We had our problems back in my day having to watch out for the police and worse, but the new generations, I don’t know.”

“Was he high or something?” Blaine asked as an image of Kurt lying in the hospital popped into his mind. Pressing his shoulder into his partner, he walked so close they could be one.

Still a little spooked Kurt commented, “The guy who dragged me off was all over me, but then he kept looking back to the corner.”

“They’re playing the game,” Charles stated with a hard-edge to his tone.

“Game?” Two lovers said at the same time.

Grinning, Charles rolled his neck and shook his head. “The idea is to find an obvious couple and break them up.”

“That’s sick,” Kurt uttered as he glanced at Blaine securely beside him.

Chuckling, Charles added, “They’re probably a couple themselves.”

“Why would they want to do that?” Blaine asked in all innocence. New to the greater gay community, he had no idea what dirty tricks people played.

“Did either of you drink anything they may have offered you or drank from your own drinks?” Charles asked with an oddly concerned tone to his voice.

Glancing at each other, Kurt and Blaine shook their heads not really understanding why Charles would have asked.

Letting out a sigh, Charles smiled. “Good. There are all sorts of drugs out there that can be used to get people into unwanted situations.”

Two young men stopped in their tracks and stared at Charles. Of course, they had heard of the date rape drug, but the idea had never crossed their minds. The idea sent a chill up Blaine’s back and his fingers tightened about Kurt’s. A strange feeling rose in the pit of his stomach up into his chest resulting in a shudder. He felt sick.

Kurt felt the quivering of his husband’s hand. Gripping it harder, he rubbed the back of Blaine’s hand. “We’re safe, thank to Charles.”

“Glad I could help” Charles directed his two young companions down across the street to the other side and waved down a passing taxi. “Many of the men who come here are takers and users believing in their right to have whatever or whoever they want.”

Opening the back door, Blaine said innocently asked Charles, “Surely, not all?”

Arm resting upon the time of the front door, Charles frowned. “To be fair, the five percent gives us nice guys a bad name.”

A dozen minutes later the three of them stood at the door facing the official at the door. He did not bother with Charles but stopped to look the young couple up and down. Their fake identification worked in the other place and now they waited to see if their luck held out. The heavy set African-American man gave Charles a glance and the man winked.

The interior of the Shipwreck turned out to be a bright, jolly establishment with a slight nautical theme. Cozy leather chairs rested in groups about a central room with a large fireplace faced by glistened polished stone tiles. Passing through to the back they entered a courtyard with several round tables surrounded by artfully curving chairs of a modern design. Flames flickered from braziers sitting in the middle of the tables producing a homey glow on the walls and canopy overhead. Water dripped down the three-tiered fountains in the center of the patio.

Hands swaying as the young couple strolled through the passed through the building Blaine felt apprehensive. Hazel eyed darted here and there taking in the room in one wide sweep. Most of the patrons did not even notice their passage and those that did gave them cheery smiles. Charles made a b-line for the large, half wicker ball with a seat on either side. Dropping himself into the loveseat next to it, he let out a sigh and put his head back.

Lowering themselves onto two cushions in the middle of the ball, Kurt leaned into Blaine for the sack of doing so. While they both liked to shake their asses, they enjoyed the atmosphere and comfort a quieter location offered. Yes, they went out in New York, but usually with a crowd of friends. They thought themselves brave venturing out during their nights in Provincetown. Until this evening everything turned out perfect.

Taking Blaine’s right hand in his, Kurt glanced at their savior and smiled. “Thank you, again Charles.”

“Yes, thank you,” Blaine’s eyes rolled up toward Kurt and then over to Charles.

“You’re most welcome.” The older gentleman grinned and even blushed. Running his hand through his graying hair, he slowly stood. “I’m going to get a glass of wine. You want anything?”

Kurt looked at Blaine and replied, “A couple of cokes,”

Noting Charles’ look, Blaine said in a low voice, “We’re not exactly legal yet.”

Rolling his head Charles made an odd face and then turned toward the bar.

“I’m so happy he showed up.” Blaine said to his lover with a heavily emotional voice. “That fucker, would―”

“Sh-h-h-h, my love.” Kurt snuggled up closer to the man he loved. Blaine rarely used such words, unless his blood boiled.

Shaking his head, Blaine drew in a deep breath and let it out. “What happened to you.”

“That little guy―” Kurt glanced at his adorably shorter husband who appeared unbothered by the words. “He dragged me out there and this other guy kept me from getting back to you. I yelled at them, but it was too loud, and they just kept stepping in my way.”

Kissing two fingers, he held Blaine said in a soft voice, “But you found me in all those men.”

“I will always find you.” Kurt pulled the hand-holding his to his lips and kissed it. “You’re my soul mate, Blaine, and we’ll always know where each other are.”

Resting Kurt’s hand on his lap, Blaine placed his free hand on it. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Kurt let his forehead rest against his husband’s and their eyes met.

For the rest of his life Blaine would remember the knotted sensation in the pit of his stomach when the panic set it. Then he felt the endearing warmth of having those arms wrap about him ending the muddle. The tension exploded from the top of his head like a cork flung out of a shaken bottle of sparkling water leaving him feeling unbearably happy. Tenderness pressed into his skin and in that instant, he knew his husband felt the same as he did.

When he thought sent this way, old Blaine hoped he would not have to relive those feelings again, At the moment he thought his heart would have exploded in his chest scattering his thoughts. Escaping the grasp of a second Sebastian became his focus and if Charles had not interceded, he might have spent the rest of his honeymoon in jail. Oddly, he expected reliving the experience would have caused increased physical pain, and it did. An old man felt his blood pressure rise, but then the moment came when Kurt found him.

The sound of soft music and the feeling of being safe eased an old man out of his latest torment. The relief of seeing those heavenly blue orbs, brought comfort to a life spanning several decades. Closing his eyes, an old man saw his young head come to rest against a youthful Kurt. Forehead to forehead, a gently exhale from Kurt’s brushed against his skin.

Remaining like that for a moment allowed the warmth blasting down from the overhead propane heater kept them comfortable. The short moment felt wonderfully renewing. Blaine could feel his husband’s pulse in the hand he held thump in concert of his own. Without thinking, he knew both young men needed this moment to ground themselves.

“You two are so cute,” Charles interrupted the moment as he placed a bottle and three glasses on the table. Plunked his rump down on the loveseat he handed a goblet to each of the young men. With a smile he said, “I thought you would like something a little stronger than coke.”

Having lost track of time, Kurt blinked and sat up straight. Eyes shifted toward Charles, and he said, “You didn’t need to.”

“Oh yes, I did. I dislike drinking alone.” Shimmering yellow-white liquid spilled into the three glasses as he poured. “I don’t want that . . . I hate these words.”

“Asshole?” Blaine spitefully injected.

“Yes, that.” Charles handed each of them a glass. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Charles, you don’t have to apologize.” Blaine objected holding the glass in his hand.

“No, perhaps not, but I feel I must.” The older man held his glass up. “To the innocence of young love.”

Glancing at each other, the boys raised their glass and said at the same time, “To love.”

Three wineglasses clinked together as two young men and one who could be their father toasted. Leaning back to nurse his drink, Charles knew recent events rattled the two lads and changing the subject seemed like a wise option. “The other day you commented you both come from Ohio, but you now live in New York?”

“I’ve been living in New York for about a year now.” Kurt affectionately looked to Blaine with a small smirk. “We have a few things we need to do in Ohio, but when it’s all done Blaine’s coming to the Big Apple.”

Resting his glass on his knee, Charles quietly asked, “Are you going to school or just working?”

“A little of both. New York isn’t cheap,” Blaine frowned. He wanted so much out of life and the truth of New York whittled away at the dream.

“I’m in NYADA and Blaine is going to reapply. We’re both taking acting classes?” Kurt happily responded and then he patted Blaine on the knee. “This man here is marvelous. He’s a natural.”

Blaine blushed and ducked his head, then he suddenly took his husband’s face with one hand and soundly kissed him. When they parted, Kurt beamed.

Charles sighed. “I miss what you two have.”

Turning toward the older man, Kurt looked puzzled.

Returning the gaze, Charles replied in a tone holding a hint of sadness. “Steven, died in ninety-one of AIDS.”

“Oh my?” Kurt did not know how to reply though his mind went to his mother and Finn.

“We’re sorry, Charles.” Blaine apologized. While everyone knew about AIDS, neither he nor Kurt knew of anyone who lived with or died of the infliction.

“Don’t be sorry.” A wistful grin stretched Charles’ lips. “Steven and I were not exactly school sweethearts like the two of you, but we met here when I was twenty-one. In fact, it would have been our anniversary yesterday.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Blaine stated, “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

Grinning at the two young men snuggled up against each other, Charles shook his head. “I come here at this time every year to remember the love of my life. Steven was eight years my senior. It was love at first sight and I have never loved like that since. We met down on the beach one summer afternoon. I was on break from university, and he was just playing the field. He picked me up and well, I never left.”

Blaine and Kurt understanding the sentiment and smiled at each other.

The smirk on Charles face could warm the coldest heart. “I see you followed a similar path.”

“It wasn’t really a pick up, but then, I guess it was. . . in a way.” Blaine nudged his lover.

Kurt butted himself against the man he loved and then looked to Charles. “I walked down the stairs and asked someone what was going on.”

“I just happened to be that someone.” Blaine kissed Kurt’s fingers and added. “I took this hand and led him down the hall and then sang to him.”

“You sang for the masses grooving to your voice and those sexy moves.”

“Sexy? Really? I remember only seeing you.”

“Oh, you’re so full of it. You had a crush on that manager at the Gap.”

“Assistant manager.”

“With long wavy hair and what, six or was it eight years older than you.”

“It looked great in the wind blowing all over.”

“And yours remained locked in place by a cup of gel.”

“As if that mane of yours will move.”

“You were such a chicken for the plucking.”

“I left that honour for you.”

With a huge grin, Kurt purred, “It was an honour beyond honours.”

Half of Blaine’s face curled up into the adorably sexy grin as Blaine flushed beat red.

Laughing, Charles beamed at his two young companions. Sipping his wine, he said. “Steven and I would banter back and forth like that. I miss it.”

“You loved him?” Blaine softly asked.

“Very much. Steven was not a handsome man, nor was he ugly. A little pudgy with lots of hair, but he swept me off my feet. I was a skinny little thing at that time, and I called him my cub. We must have looked hilarious together.” Charles looked a bit sad for a moment. “I had two boyfriends after Steven, but nothing compared. He was my soul mate.”

Eyes locked, the bond which made two men from Lima a couple blossomed the pedals of an opening flower. The truth of the pain they had suffered rolled up their torsos and settled in their chests leaving a sense of forgiveness. Together they smiled and kissed.

Topping up their glassed, Charles’ eyes moved from Blaine to Kurt and back again. “Would you like a little advice?”

“Don’t go to bed angry?” Blaine countered with an impish glint in his eye.

“Well, that’s a good one and it's very true,” Charles raised his glass again and waited for the lovers to do the same. When they had he added, “Never lose the feeling you have for each other at this moment. Cherish it and you will have nothing but happiness.”

Three glasses touched again and then Kurt suddenly leaned in and kissed Blaine. The man with dark five o’clock shadow wildly grinned and lifted his glass again. “To the man I love with all my heart. You are perfect to me in every way.”

“Ah, thank you,” Charles placed a hand on his chest with a mocking grin,

Kurt chuckled and then glanced at Charles with a smirk before turning to his husband. Winking, he said, “Blaine, I knew I loved you when you first took my hand.”

Sitting back Charles’ face shone with admiration and caring. Reaching into his inside pocket of his blazer, he took out a card and offered it to Kurt. “When you get back to New York, give me a call, if this old troll hasn’t creeped you out.”

“No, no,” Kurt stated as he looked at Blaine who nodded. “I think we would both like that.”

Taking the card from his lover, Blaine looked at it and his brow furrowed. “You work at the Metropolitan Opera?”

“Been working there for twenty-seven years.” Charles’ eyes glossed over as if fond memories pressed in on his thought.

“Wow,” Kurt excitedly sat forward. “Do you know Rosalind Elias or James Conlon or Paul Plishka?”

“I’ve worked with them.” Charles gave Kurt a look and then smirked. “You know your classics.”

Licking his lips, Kurt nodded. “We study them at NYADA. I love listening to them sing.”

Sipping his wine Blaine placed a hand on Kurt’s back and asked, “Do you know Ann Ziff or June Dalloway?”

“I’ve never met Ann, but June and I’ve met here a few times.” Charles swirled his wine as his brow pressed together. “Have your paths crossed?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Kurt dropped a hand onto Blaine’s thigh. “She did a showcase for Blaine last year.”

“You’re lucky.” The older man nodded. “She’s a very generous woman.”

One eyebrow pushed up as Blaine stated, “She can be very hard too.”

“Yes, and that’s why she’s trusted by so many.” Shifting on the love seat, Charles faced the youngsters. “She has a real nose for talent. If she went to that degree for you, don’t give up on your dream.”

Rolling his lower lip over his upper lip, Blaine commented, “I don’t want to give up on anything, but we do have things we need to do before I can pick up on the dream.”

“Don’t waste time, Blaine or for that fact, you to Kurt. Use everything at your disposal.” Charles stopped and looked to the bar and then back at Blaine.

Blaine’s brows brunched up. “I don’t want to do it that way.”

“A further word of advice.” Charles leaned forward with a serious look on his face. “Take it from an old queen, don’t waste your youth with flighty ideas. Go for it and make a name for yourself. Broadway is doggie dog and can be nasty at times. If June saw fit to give you a leg up, take it.”


	35. A Get Away Part 3

Blaine woke with his heart pounding in his chest and then his eyes flickering to find a source of instant calm. Head tucked down to his chest the heavenly sight of a handsome face on the pillow close to his. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and he drew in a short, but deep breath. Even with all the happiness of the past few weeks the events of a cold winter’s night haunted him. Never had he felt so low, but now he felt he could touch the clouds. The two clashed within a simmering pool of guilt ending in a dull pain spread within the center of his chest. Kurt forgave him, so why could not he absolve himself?

Lying there pondering the why’s, Blaine felt a sense of dread deep in his stomach. The acidic sensation slowly clawed itself up into his chest, leaving him breathless. Fuck! Not this? Not now? The last time he felt like this New York drowned a downpour and the man now lying beside him, broke off their engagement. Cheating had been bad enough, but those words crushed Blaine.

The man curled up next to him involuntarily stretched in his sleep and a foot abruptly striking Blaine in the shin. Dragged Blaine from his sadness, it almost seemed that a sleeping Kurt knew his lover spiraled. Kurt always said Blaine made him feel safe, and tonight, they reversed roles. Lowering his head back onto the pillow he inhaled and breathed out several times until he felt himself doze. In that odd place between sleep and being awake, the clouds of his mind parted to reveal firelight sparkling on early eighteenth-century crystal. Two men in their mid twenties, one with his shirt off sat on the floor against the couch holding goblets filled with red liquid. Shoulder’s resting against each other, they talked about wishes and their wants. Suddenly the shorter one with darker hair rolled onto one knee to make a loving statement. The other beamed and reached up drawing his lover into a passionate kiss.

Sleep never did come, and his dreams faded into lidless darkness. His arm twitched and Blaine felt the urge to roll over, but weight pressed against him held him in place. Hazel eyes fluttered open and for a second Blaine saw a sliver of light hanging on the horizon―he must have slept a little. Oddly, as his eyes adjusted it seemed as if he saw the glitter of firelight on stemware, bringing a sense of hope. Spreading contentment pushed back in the darkness of the past as his foot pressed against Kurt causing his fingers to stroke a limp snake. Often, the man he loved fell asleep with his hand resting on his Blaine’s happy stick. Just as often, he woke in a similar condition, but this time he would be hard.

A blade of brightness drew a line on Kurt’s exposed shoulders and back. Starting at the shimmering skin, as the moments past the point of light stretched down onto the deltoid muscle. From his present angle, Blaine gazed at the tattoo on Kurt’s back and the sight made him a little unhappy. After all this time, he still could believe his love would mark his perfect skin in such a manner. Nature made the body to be a thing of beauty and Blaine could not understand why people painted it. Mind you, he could live with it, but piercing the tongue gave Blaine the willies. Thank god, Kurt let the hole grow over because just looking at it turned Blaine’s stomach.

Controlling a large yawn and the need to stretch, Blaine’s eyes darted about. He enjoyed the cabana house but, to be honest, the hotel beat it hands down. Throwing themselves on the king-sized bed when checked in, they sank into the soft mattress with deep giggling and rolling about. Warm pine floors which felt good on the toes, the fireplace made for a very romantic atmosphere and marble in the bathroom added to the luxurious comfort of a suite. Visiting the pool a few times, the pruned their skin in the hot tub long into the late evening hours.

Rolling his head toward the brightening slice of light, Blaine honestly smiled for the first time since waking. Baring two events and a bad dream that threatened to derail their bliss, Blaine refused to give into a natural habit―brooding. Instead, he considered all those things, which made him feel light on his feet and in his heart.

Having pushed the gloom way, he slowly and playfully traced a finger along smooth skin, provoking a loving beginning of the morning. Kurt yawned, and his fingers press hard against his swelling cock and then his head moved so that his lips pressed into Blaine’s chin. Turning his body, his engorged pickle pressed against Blaine’s thigh lips sought lips. Some time later, Kurt’s sweaty body draped across Blaine as the two men panted. Fully sated, exercise could never beat the rambunctious thrashing Kurt gave his willing partner. Smiling, Blaine glanced toward the clock and then squeezed Kurt tightly.

Keeping Kurt occupied with foolish little things proved difficult. First, he insisted on taking a walk on the pier and the beach where he endured Kurt’s complained about the cold wind. The sun came up of the Atlantic, but Kurt started to fidget as darling man whined about wanting something to eat. Blaine pouted and feigned giving in. They almost fought when Kurt demanded they stop at one place, but his husband wanted to go someplace else. Grumbling when they ordered, Kurt’s eyebrows went up when the manager deposited a huge bouquet of red and yellow roses on the table in front of him. The stern expression on his face changed as he looked to Blaine with surprise. Then his brow furrowed when he noticed two white gold rings dangled from a thin red ribbon. With his chin hanging low, Kurt stared for a long moment and then a finger tapped the rings bringing it all into perspective. The narrow and flat metal circle complimented the ones already two men already wore.

Turning in his chair to face his lover, his best friend, his darling husband, Kurt through his arms about Blaine and shed a tear. Taking the rings, they slipped them next to the those they already wore and sat back admiring them. Blaine had to smile because he would never forget the look on Kurt’s face when he slipped the original ring onto his finger. While a nice gesture on Sue’s part, he really wanted something special for the wedding. Understandably plain Jane during their surprise wedding, this became the icing on the cake. The new rings started out as a single unit, but Blaine had the goldsmith cut it in half. Blaine provided Kurt’s size and the older gentlemen found he could work with that.

After breakfast they went to the jeweler and had the four rings properly set to make two slightly fatter bands. In the end the smooth roundness of the original ring had a fine, curing Celtic band sets seamlessly to the outer edge of their original rings. Leaving their wedding bands behind, they wandered off to so some last-minute shopping and then lunch. When they returned to anxiously retrieve the symbols of their love, the goldsmith had added the perfect, final touch―right in left engraved into the co-joined rings.

Reunited with their sacred rings, Blaine beamed as he looked at his sparkling creation and the look on Kurt’s face. The crafty man felt proud himself for having pulled this off. On their first walk along Provincetown’s main street Blaine spotted a little store with a sign in the window reading ‘goldsmith on premises’. The next day, while Kurt napped, Blaine ran down there and made a hasty order. It almost maxed out his credit card, but he did not care―love consumed him.

Afterward, they enjoyed a walk along the beach before going back to the hotel for a little afternoon delight to find a dinner invitation waiting for them. Dressing in their nicest clothes, they arrived at the Mews Restaurant to find a romantic table in a dimly lit corner waiting for them. Lobster, steak, jumbo scallops, duck, salads and soups, mixed with wine and coffee made for a romantic and funny time. During the three-hour dinner, Charles entertained them with stories from and his after-hours high jinks as Madam Lipkinka.

The evening rolled on and Charles had another surprise in mind. They ended the night seated close to a stage where an elegantly attired drag queen paced about looking for a brave soul wanting to play with a karaoke machine. It took only a little push for Charles to get the two young men up there. Music flowed in their veins and the crowd pushed them. Three favourite duets later, they handed the microphones back to the mistress of ceremonies. With a little jump in his step, Kurt led Blaine down the stairs. Skirting along the wall to the right of the curtain to where Charles stood clapping, old arms wrapped around the two cubs.

“Now, who is going to be brave enough follow that.” The vibrant drag queen in six-inch heels, a slim, sparkling pearl dress with towering hair announced from on stage. Thick red lips annunciated with flare as long lashes fluttered with her eyes. “Come on you bitches, drink some more and get your lily-white asses up here.”

“Bravo, my boys,” Charles cooed as he steered Kurt and Blaine through the crowd toward the back of the cabaret. Wearing a sweater under a light brown blazer the pleasant smell of expensive cologne flowed with him. “That last one was astounding.”

“You picked it?” Kurt pointed out as he climbed onto the stool next to a tall, round table.

“It brings back memories,” Charles grinned and then looked to the bar. “I bet you two could use something to wet your whistles.”

“You trying to get us drunk?” Kurt mused as he rubbed his hands across Blaine’s back. Squeezing in behind his lover, he pulled a stool up to the table.

“A loud alarm clock will wake you soon enough, so you can puke or grab a coffee.” Charles smirked. “Take it from this old queen, flying with a hangover is not fun.”

Blaine made a face as he pulled a stool closer “I’ve never been that drunk.”

“Really?” One of Kurt’s eyebrows went up.

“Well, I’ve never thrown up.”

“You were close at Rachel’s and then Scandals.”

“Okay, I had a bit too much to drink, but I didn’t throw up? Did I?”

“No.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“And what do you do with that thing between your legs?” Kurt spread his free hand out wide as he gave Blaine a sideways look.

Blaine posed with a lofty look on his face. “And what does that make you, my sweet?”

“Completely and utterly smitten.”

“Oh, you say the nicest things, Mr. Anderson-Hummel.”

“And you do the most wonderful things, Mr. Anderson-Hummel”

Chuckling, Charles vanished into the crowd headed to the line at the bar.

Watching him go, Blaine looked back at the stage where a young woman took up the challenge. She had a good voice and managed to get the crowd revved up, but she could not move. Leaning closer to Kurt he said, “You were marvelous tonight.”

“Yeah, I was.” Kurt dryly replied and then kissed Blaine on the nose. “I missed singing with you.”

“Well, you get to sing with me for the rest of our lives.”

“Yes, and I am looking forward to anniversary duets and Christmas carols in the kitchen as we cook for our families?”

“I hope the place we find can fit yours and mine.”

“We’ll won’t find anything the size of the loft.”

“No, but we can’t go on living there.”

“I know. I’m surprised Rachel had been able to hang on to it this long.”

“She’s paying for Glee and she can’t keep both up forever. Fanny paid well, but the money isn’t endless.”

“She’s been offered another part.”

“It’s not the lead.”

“Will her pride get in the way . . . yes.”

“She almost blew it too.”

“She might have learned that lesson.”

“Or not?”

“She’s the same old Rachel we love to avoid every so often.”

“She might end up with you in NYADA.” Blaine fell silent for a second. “I guess I have to think about it too.”

Placing his free hand on top the hand, he already held, Kurt gazed into those lovely hazel eyes and softly said, “Charles had a point the other day.”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“And?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s your decision Blaine and I’m not going to push the issue.”

Turning on his stool so his torso faced his husband, Blaine said. “He’s right though. We both have to try and to that point, I’ve been considering we should start our own production company.”

Pulling himself up straight, Kurt gave his partner that ‘you have got to be joking’ look.

“No, think about it, honey?” All four hands found themselves in a muddle as Blaine’s head tilted down ever so slightly, he gazed at Kurt on an angle. “Not right now, but after we get out of school. I was thinking I could follow more of the production side while you continue to concentrate on acting. We both stay in the music programs.”

Pouting, Kurt looked unhappy. “You don’t want to act with me.”

“Oh Kurt?” Blaine pushed his shoulder into Kurt’s and smiled. “Of course, I do, but I would like to learn the other side too. I’m going to be a year behind you . . . again. Maybe I’ll dedicate more of my last year to production and music composition.”

“I forgot about that?” Kurt looked down pouting. Fingers rubbing his lover’s hands, he looked up again and cheerfully smiled. “At least this time we won’t be parted.”

Grinning, Blaine whispered, “I will be there to kiss you every morning before you kick me out the door to catch the bus.”

“Would I do that?”

“With a delightful wink.”

“I’d like that.” Kurt beamed and then his face became a little more serious. “So, you’re going to try NYADA again.”

Kissing Kurt’s hand on top of the pile of fingers, Blaine answered, “For you, I will do anything. I’ll have to try, that’s if Madam Thibidaux will let me in the door.”

“Now, that’s a good boy,” Charles commented as he squeezed between two men about his own age, three younger men and a woman to reach the table. Holding two tall tumblers filled with fizzy clear liquid with wedges of lime and a glass of red wine with two hands, he put them down on the table. Taking the tumblers and placing them before his young friends.

“Thanks, Charles,” Kurt nodded to the older man.

“We’ve been talking about school.” Blaine commented as he picked up the drink and sipped his soda water and lime.

“So, I gather.” Charles leaned against the table.

“You can have my stool,” Kurt offered and started to move.

“No, I’ll stand. My back gets sore if I sit too long.” Picking up his glass, Charles held it up. “To your careers. May they be long and fruitful?”

Two tall glasses met wine and Blaine said, “I was telling Kurt, I have been thinking about what you said earlier. I’m going to give it a try.”

“Try, don’t try not. Do, do not. There is no try.” Charles said in his best Yoda voice.

Smiling, Blaine added, “I was thinking of adding production and music composition to my course load.”

“You might want to go to NYU for the production side,” Charles advised. “It has one of the best programs in the world.”

“When we . . . were split up.” Blaine gave Kurt an anxious look. “I looked at the music school at NYU and it cooperates with NYADA. I may be able to study at NYU for credit at NYADA.”

“That would keep you busy.” Charles stated as a single eyebrow flicked up.

“I think I can make it work.” Blaine grinned. “I love writing music. It makes me feel as if someone has dropped a funnel making the notes and words feel like they come from a higher place.”

“I felt something like that on stage.” Kurt admitted with a mistrusting look on his face.

“Your true passions.” Charles’ brows pulled together and then he smiled. “I have a friend who has published five books. She says the same thing.”

Blaine’s eyes rolled and then he sighed. “When I think about it, it probably means two years, not one Kurt.”

Squinting at Blaine, Kurt touched his cheek. “We can make it work and maybe I will join you for those two.”

“You would do that?” Blaine seemed surprised.

Kissing his lover, Kurt softly replied, “Yes.”

“You’re such a darling.” Blaine grinned and then his face fell into a frown. “We’ll both have to work.”

“I know, but we’ll make due.” Kurt fondly stared at his husband.

Blaine pressed his shoulder against Kurt. “I’m going to see if I can get a scholarship. I’ll have time to apply if I do not waste time when we get back to Lima.”

Charles sipped his wine followed by a thoughtful stroke of his chin. “You know, I might be able to help there.”

“You’ve done enough for us this week,” Blaine stated as he turned to face Charles.

Charles held up a hand. “I’m not doing the hiring, so nothing’s guaranteed. We have three positions that will need filling in the next few months. Two are in the lobby and the other is backstage with the rest of us grunts. I can put in a word for both of you, but you will have to sell it.”

Two young men exchanged looks and then Kurt said, “Thanks, but I have a job in a home for retired actors waiting for me.”

“I guess that means you Blaine,” Charles grinned at Kurt. “Would you like the front of the house or backstage.”

“I’ve been thinking of adding production to my studies, so backstage.” Blaine picked up his drink and drained half of it. “When my parents sent me to Dalton, they held interviews for us as a family. My dad actually behaved himself, but I think it was because mom forced him. When I mentioned I liked to sing, the entry committee asked Wes and David to join them. I sang for them and the rest became a triumph of personal history.

“Still, that doesn’t compare to seeing a world premiere opera from behind the scenes would go a long way to fulfilling a long-term goal. I hate to admit it, but dropping June’s name both at NYADA and in the scholarship application might help. I’m sitting in front of a man who has the experience and knowledge to help me. . . both of us along a hard and jumbled road. My stubborn belief in his own talent and a lack of understanding of the system has clouded my judgment.”

Kurt glanced at his husband with a look of admiration. In response, Blaine leaned in and kissed him.

Charles placed a hand on Blaine’s shoulder and nodded. “I’ll let you know when the posting goes up,”

“Thank you, Charles, but you really don’t need to do this.” Blaine felt obligated to state the obvious.

“No, I don’t but I want to. June’s not the only one who can recognize talent.” Charles swirled his wine and then downed it. “Can I help it this old queer hopes we can become friends.”

“I think we already are,” Kurt commented with a smile. “You have been surprisingly generous this week.”

“Yeah, I can hear my friends saying I am trying to buy two handsome and very young studs.” Charles chucked with a wink. “When I heard the two of you talking to the waiter at Tin Pan Alley, I knew I wanted to get to know you. You’re cute, but there’s something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

The soft words of Blaine’s initial pronouncement of enduring love on the stairs of Dalton echoed in his head. The side of his face curled up into a smirk with the oddly comforting feeling in Blaine’s chest. Hazel eyes slowly moved to the man he loved, and his face exploded into a full-blown smile.

His chin, receding down toward his chest and Kurt made a face. “What?”

Taking Kurt’s hand, Blaine said, “I was thinking of when I originally asked you to marry me.”

“That was so sweet in a bizarre way?” Kurt scratched his head and then smiled for the sack of smiling. “You took my hand and it felt . . . your words were surreal.”

Charles cleared his throat. “Should I leave you two alone?”

Both men beamed and then looked to Charles, Kurt said in a low, emotional voice, “My soul understood something before―”

Fondly looking at his new husband, Blaine completed the statement. “Well before my body and my mind―”

Tears rolled down Kurt’s cheek and then he took Blaine’s right hand in his and kissed it ever so gently. “You make me so happy.”

“And you make me feel so loved.” Blaine softly replied.

Searching for that last drop of wine, Charles grinned as he watched the two lovebirds stare into each other’s eyes. Slowly blue eyes drifted to the stage where a man passed the microphone back to the mistress of ceremonies. Again, she made a call out for volunteers. Suddenly Kurt jumped to his feet and made a dash through the crowd to the stage. At the same time a large woman made her way forward, but when the drag queen noticed Kurt, and she/he literally threw the microphone at him. Making a face, the woman rolled her eyes and settled back to wait.

A bright light shown down at Kurt as he typed a title into the machine. Standing, he covered his eyes to cut the glare and looked out into the crowd. Anticipation filled many faces and then he held the microphone to his lips. In a sultry voice he said, “This is for my best friend, the man I love, and new husband.”

The music started with a touch of a button.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjnmICxvoVY Artist Savage Garden but please, image Kurt singing it.)

_Maybe it's intuition_  
_But some things you just don't question_  
_Like in your eyes, I see my future in an instant_  
_And there it goes, I think I've found my best friend_

_I know that it might sound more than a little_  
_Crazy, but I believe_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I think I dreamed you into life_  
_I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I have been waiting all my life_

_There's just no rhyme or reason_  
_Only this sense of completion_  
_And in your eyes, I see the missing pieces_  
_I'm searching for, I think I found my way home_

_I know that it might sound more than a little_  
_Crazy, but I believe_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I think I dreamed you into life_  
_I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I have been waiting all my life_

_A thousand angels dance around you_  
_I am complete now that I found you_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I think I dreamed you into life_  
_I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I have been waiting all my life_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I think I dreamed you into my life_  
_I knew I loved you before I met you_  
_I have been waiting all my life_

By midmorning the next day, two happy lovers sat on a plane roaring up over Provincetown with their recollections and hundreds of photos. Age dulled his memory, but, at the moment, it sat there in the forefront of his mind as if it had just happened. A bead of water rolled onto wrinkled skin and old Blaine felt a ping of pain in his heart. Drawing in a deep breath, it did not make him feel better, but brought his thoughts into focus. An aged man remembered stumbling from the taxi into his lover’s arms while Charles yelled at the boys from the front seat wishing them luck and telling them to call. The middle-aged stage manager would be in their lives for another thirty-odd years sharing many of their triumphs and letdowns.


End file.
